


Memory Rebound

by Kaylachan1990, ShadowedLove97



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alfor is alive and well, Alternate Universe - College/University, Artist Keith (Voltron), Autistic Keith (Voltron), Coran is just Coran, Keith in a foster family, M/M, Mild Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Mostly Fluff, Pidge is a sarcastic child prodigy, astrophysicist Shiro, basketball star Lance, friendship challenges ahead for these boys!, minor Coran/Alfor/Allura's mom OT3, non-binary Pidge, personal trainer Allura, platonic Shay/Hunk, psychology major Hunk, rivals to friends to lovers, they/them pronouns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-25 21:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9845753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaylachan1990/pseuds/Kaylachan1990, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowedLove97/pseuds/ShadowedLove97
Summary: Once high school basketball stars, now college students; Lance and Hunk find themselves facing their former rival and friend once again in college. Except this time Lance is the only one who is playing basketball, and he might just have a crush on him-- Wait does Keith not remember them? Why is he studying as an artist now? And who the hell is Shay, why is she in Hunk psychology class and why does she seem to know him?For theThe Primary Big Bang, please check out the other works! There's a lot of cool art and fanfics.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta credit goes to our friend [Chelsea](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unicornholly). Thank you for betaing despite being busy, we really appreciate it!
> 
> Please check out our lovely artists - they worked super hard and their work is amazing! I hope we're able to work with you again one day c:
> 
> Artists: [Kris](http://dickydoodles.tumblr.com/post/157474208213/my-piece-from-the-voltron-big-bang-project-it-was), [Kriss](http://kibarockz79.tumblr.com/post/157490449201/3-scenes-from-memory-rebound-by) and [Tori](http://vi-art.tumblr.com/post/157488283176/okay-yay-i-can-finally-post-this-these-are-my).

_We're going to be late, we're going to be late!_ The thought pounded in his head relentlessly, a storm mixing and creating a torrential downpour of anxiety that left him sick. This could not be happening. Except it was, and that wasn't the only thing on his panicked mind. "I'm sorry! Lance, please man, say something!" The two barely squeezed through the door—it felt like they were in a cartoon, both trying to leave at the same time—and burst into the empty hallway. "Seriously, I didn't mean to! But you know how I am; I thought you'd be okay with it!" Normally, Lance had a moderate temper; not quite gentle or the most patient, but not always bursting with fiery anger either. Hunk especially had a hard time angering him, but as it turned out, this seemed to be one of the few occasions he might have.

"Hunk, please, now is not the time," Lance yawned out as he stopped his phone from falling out of his pocket. He picked up speed as they started running down the hallway of their dorm. "We've got a couple hours break between classes, we'll discuss the bad idea then, alright?" Lance didn't like being annoyed with his best friend turned dorm mate, but right now he was tired and somewhat unprepared for his first class of the year. "Look, I get out first so I’m going to practice a bit on the indoor basketball court until you get a break, meet me there, man." Now he was talking really fast, trying to keep up with the pace they were moving.

Hunk inwardly flinched but didn't push any further. It was obvious doing so would just make it worse. "Fine, fine." He should argue—how was it a bad idea? He thought it had been pretty efficient. But doing so now wouldn't be a good idea. Lance was already angry and they were going to be late if they didn't hurry.

They rounded the corner, sprinting down a small hall before rounding another. Silver elevator doors gleamed from the end of the hall along with the stairwell door, only catching black hair before it swung closed. "Elevator or stairs?"

  
Lance glanced over at Hunk, eyebrow raised. "Elevator; some dude is going down the stairs and I would not be above bulldozing him over right now," he half muttered as he slammed the down button kind of rocking on his heels, ready to jump in when the door opened, and doing just that, pushing the first floor button almost too fast, checking his phone. "We should have enough time if we bolt when it gets down."

"Right." Although at this point the idea of Lance bulldozing the poor person down wasn't as much of an issue to him as being late, he didn't want to argue or get the person hurt regardless. So he chose to stay silent, following him into the elevator. "I hope you're right about that. I don't want to be late." But Lance knew that, of course he knew that. How couldn't he with what had just happened? "We could be kicked out! And then we'd be stuck waiting in the hall for the whole class, or we're scolded in front of everyone. It—Maybe it would be kind of funny though." There was no heart to his tone as he chuckled weakly, quickly trailing off as the elevator halted. "Wait that wouldn't happen... right?"

Lance let out a sigh, relaxing a bit, "Nah, they wouldn't do that to us.” He grinned and winked, "Besides, I'm sure I could use this face to charm anyone to let us get to our first classes and be punished later, if not just let us off completely." He joked for the first time that morning.

He held his hand up for a fist bump when they got off the elevator. "Look, we'll talk about dorm rules later but for now let’s wish each other luck and get to class before we get stuck next to the annoying students in class."

The heaviness in Hunk's chest lifted at that, although the prickling in his stomach remained, connecting his own fist to Lance's. "Alright. Good luck and see you after class then, buddy." They didn't have to split up until they got to their first academic building, but it was good to get that off his chest.

Lance nodded, patting Hunk on the back before he picked up speed heading toward the buildings, "We'll do great, you got accepted on your own for studying, and I got in because people know I can beat any team, especially if I have to play against Mr. Showoff in the big field of games now." He grinned, determined now as they ran on toward their splitting part. He checked his watch again, "We have about fifteen minutes, I think we'll make it."

"Hopefully. And if not, I guess I better hope the professor isn't like Mr. Iverson from middle school. Do you remember him?" His breathing hitched, gasps interlacing some of his words, but not altogether uncomfortable. It had been a while since he last kept up the exercise routine he had in high school. Between moving and getting settled and finding a job, he really hadn't had time to. "Mean, scary, strict like a military sergeant; who always locked us out if we were late one time and was responsible for my only detention ever since elementary school?"

Lance visibly shivered at the mention of their old teacher, "Man, I hope not, I'd drop the class right then and there if any of them are like that. Thankfully I know my coach isn't going to be that bad." He slowed down his running a little bit, honestly being a bit out of shape as well. "Alright Hunk, we're around where we split ways for now, try to find the vending machine and get a bottle of water, it's college, they won't mind. You need it for your nerves and our running. We'll hang out, and make roommate rules later, good luck."

Hunk slowed down too. "Alright man. Good luck too, and Lance?" Raising an eyebrow, he grinned, a fair bit calmer now than he had been and even teasingly playful too, "Try to pay attention and not get in trouble. I'm not going to be there to bail you out this time." He rubbed the back of his head, "Or, well. Technically I bailed _us_ out, but it was always your idea and, well...you know."

Lance laughed, waving at him as he headed off, "Hey I'll be fine, I don't know enough people here yet to get in trouble with them around," he reassured him. He glanced back and smiled, "Worry once I find someone cute to impress, or have a game against our old 'friend' alright? Good luck!"

Hunk nodded and waved back, turning away himself and starting to head towards a white building opposite of Lance's. "Got it. See you later." The bright smile dimmed once he was certain that Lance couldn't see. Although not quite happy, his smile wasn't sad either, merely weakened and doubtful. Would their old friend show up again? What if he wasn't playing basketball anymore? What would they do then? He didn't know, the idea upsetting, but not overly so. From that fateful, final game and their parting thereafter, he had already set himself on the path to move on. It was easier that way.

Lance glanced back once after he'd headed out in his direction, wanting to check on Hunk, but smiled when he saw he'd turned to head out. Lance took a deep breath then headed back off, ready to pay attention, do well in classes to play on the team. He'd be fine when got there, he was sure. He was okay enough to admit...he would feel better when practicing.

In the large white academic building, down the first hall to his left, past the first four doors on his right. Room 445. This is what Hunk repeated in his head, a mantra to ensure he didn't miss his first class of the day. It was okay. He wasn't late. There were a few minutes left until class started. He was fine. He was fine. He was—

The realization that the teacher wasn't there yet wasn't the first thing that hit him when he opened the door. In fact it was more of an afterthought as his mind tried to process the familiar presence of a woman with light brown hair and dark brown skin, blotted with tan. "S-Shay?!"

She turned, startled out of her conversation with a fellow student. Yellowish-amber eyes brightened, staring at Hunk with as much shock and familiarity that he felt. "Hunk?!"

* * *

* * *

 

Conversing, Hunk and Shay walked out of their classroom and towards the exit of the building. It was the perfect time to finish catching up, or to try to at least. As they were, however, a buzz in Hunk's pocket interrupted them. A text from Lance. Speaking of Lance... "I can't wait for you to meet Lance. I'm sure you'll love him. He should be in the library. Apparently there wasn't practice today because of some seniors throwing a party."

She smiled. "From the stories you've been telling me, I'm sure he and I will be friends as well," she assured him. "I'm actually really happy that it gives me people to spend time with here,” she added as they headed into the library, glancing up when she saw someone laying over a chair in the school’s basketball jersey, "Oh, uhm, would that happen to be your friend?"

Lance was sprawled out in a sofa chair in the library, legs over one of the arms, head over the other, reading some book, clearly dozing on and off slightly, with a pout on his face, slight mutterings of "Could have waited until a Saturday..." and "Seniors today are my enemy like alarms."

Hunk slowed down then, frowning a little at Lance's muttering. That's right. They were supposed to discuss the alarm issue. "Yeah, that's him. Hey, would you mind waiting here a second Shay?" It would be easier discussing it just privately between the two of them. "It'll just take a second."

She nodded, "It's completely fine, Hunk," she glanced back over at his friend, "He seems like he may need someone to talk to for a moment. I'll go check and see if they have a copy of a book I've been meaning to read, I'll come over to you both afterwards."

Lance sort of finally glanced up when caught onto Hunk's voice. He yawned and waved at him, not moving from his position in the chair, "Hey there buddy."

"Hey." Hunk smiled and fidgeted with one of the straps of his bag. "You...wanted to talk about this morning, didn't you?" Lance had said it was okay, but even still... He couldn't shake off the nervousness.

"I did, and look man, I know I was grumpy about it this morning, still annoyed a bit," Lance yawned mid-remark, "We've got to work on the rules for our room. We both have cell phones, I get you’re worried about them not going off so we'll figure out something, but dude, that many alarms before we had to get up.... it's gunna effect our sleep big time."

"Yeah, yeah I know." He brushed the back of his head and stared at the ground. "Sorry, just...you know. I panicked. It's a new place, new school. I'm...still kind of nervous about it actually. Really nervous. Do you really think there's a better way to do this?"

"Sure there is, maybe our phones set for when we have to get up, and then an actual alarm clock ten minutes later set across the room so we have to get up," Lance suggested, "that's how my brother and I used to do it back home before he headed out for college."

He gave it some thought, debating heavily for a few minutes, "You know. That might just work. Thanks, man." Hunk smiled widely and rubbed the back of his head again, "I'm sorry again for this morning. I really overreacted, huh?"

"You did," Lance agreed, shifting in his chair more comfortably, "You pay for pizza tonight and play me one on one on the outdoor basketball court this weekend, and you're forgiven." He smiled then pointed his thumb toward the library's checkout desk. "Your friend over there is staring at us worried, invite her over here?"

"Alright, sounds good." And, with the brightest, dorkiest smile, one that seemed to envelope the sun itself, Hunk turned towards where he left Shay. "Hey! You can come over now." A chorus of "shhhs" greeted his call, causing him to blush sheepishly, as if they were a part of a cartoon. "Sorry," he said to no one in particular, as those who shushed him had returned to their work, no longer paying attention.

Lance just cracked up, closing the book he'd been pseudo-reading, winking jokingly at Hunk's friend as she made her way over. He fake whispered to Hunk, "Embarrassing yourself that much in front of me and this lovely lady, you only have to pay for two thirds of our dinner." Before turning to Hunk's friend, "Nice to meet you."

Shay held back a slight laugh as she approached them, "Hello there, I hope I'm not in the way, even though you said it was fine for me to come over," she said a bit shyly as she sat in another of the chairs near them.

"Shay, this is Lance. Lance, this is Shay. Y'know, the childhood friend I've talked about before. Well, now that I've introduced you two, why don't we figure out something to do? We don't really have any homework yet aside from the required reading, so a studying session feels like a waste." What could they do? "Oh! Let's go grab some lunch." They had gone through two classes already, making it around lunch time any ways. And he, at least, didn't have any more classes for another few hours.

Lance and Shay greeted each other properly, then waiting to see if she'd agree to spend time with them for lunch, Lance packed up his things. "That sounds good to me, we need a lot of food to handle the rest of this afternoon. I think one of the campus cafes is nearby, the food smelled good on the way here so it’s worth a shot." He looked at Hunk and grinned, "Shay and I can bond over embarrassing stories, huh buddy? We can also tell her about how we were really good at high school basketball, even my main rival was scared of us." Lance was aware he was exaggerating a bit on that last part, but hey if it made the story more fun.

Hunk chuckled as they strolled out of the library, drawing out the first word of his reply. " _Right,_ embarrassing stories...let's just keep that to a minimum. Unless that means I'm suddenly allowed to talk about all the times you embarrassed yourself flirting.”

Lance frowned, looking a way, face a bit red, "People just don't always seem to understand where I'm coming from with my flirting ways, who knows, maybe people here on campus will... or something..."

Shay just smiled at them, turning to Hunk, "I'm so glad you've found a friend this close to you Hunk."

"Yeah, well..." Hunk averted his attention back to Shay, ignoring Lance's trailed off mumbling. "I-I'm glad too, but I'm happy to see you too."

She smiled back at him and the group of three continued on into the cool evening air. Haloing them, light poured out behind them as they walked, and eventually they made it to the cafe. There, they grabbed their food—Hunk breaking out into a rant about how sporks were clearly superior when their conversation turned towards cutlery—and caught up.

\---

The boredom that permeated the room was like a sickness, only a few immune to its wake. A particular student, located far back in the lecture hall, was no exception as they absentmindedly sketched in the margins of their notes. He hated this. Why did he have to take this awful class? So that he could be thrown into some stuffy suit with a tight collar and scratchy clothes if his art career didn't take off? No thanks. Sure he needed a backup plan, but business management? He should have chosen something like astrophysics or astrology or something. _Anything_ would be better than this.

He sighed, pressing his pencil down hard enough to leave angry black marks as the professor droned on about the meticulous nature of financing. The ticking of the clock filled his head, counting down to when he'd finally be released from this monotonous hell. _Tick_. **_-Tap-_**. _Tick_. **_-Tap-_**. _Tick_. **_-Tap-_**.

"Mr. Altearia, can you please stop that incessant tapping of yours?"

Ah. It took him a second to comprehend what was said, and another to start inwardly—and maybe outwardly too—seething. Not only was the pronunciation wrong, the professor had left off the one part of his last name that actually belonged to him. "It's Al ** _tea_** ria, not Al ** _tear_** ia. _And_ you left off the other half." He snapped under his breath. "Yeah, sure." This time he responded loud enough for the professor to hear him, along the annoyance in his tone. The professor knew about his ~quirks~ —he quietly gagged at the thought of his stims being described in such a way, but at this point it was obvious that his councilor wasn’t going to budge on this, and he really didn't want to get expelled over such an argument. Not when he had already fought this and failed before. So he dropped the subject. Besides, it was more fruitful and satisfying by making the disability department’s life a living hell when it came to him versus the alternative. It strengthened his point.

Another person declaring the end of class and the professor concluding their thought interrupted his thoughts and prompted him to start gathering his things. Quietly he debated confronting the professor before deciding against it as a yawn bubbled up in his throat. If it was an issue again later, he'd confront them. But for now he was too tired and wanted to get home.

He slipped out of the room full of students making plans, solitude enveloping him well into the night.

\--

It was when he was back in his dorm when his phone buzzed in his pants pocket. "...Hello?"

"Hey, it's Shiro," the voice on the other end of the line spoke, "Just got off work and haven't spoken to anyone yet. Wanted to call and see how day one of classes went, and see how you've settled in your dorm."

"Shiro?" His voice lifted while he tossed his bag down by his bunk bed and flopped onto the mattress. It squeaked under him. "Hey, it's been a while." Or at least felt like it. "Today's been what you expect it. Average. Kind of boring, actually. We haven't started anything in my art class yet, so there's that. Oh. And Business Management is probably one of the worse choices I've ever made for a minor. Already day one and I hate the teacher and one of the courses."

Shiro huffed out a laugh, "You'll get the hang of it, Keith, and maybe they have another teacher for it you can transfer to, if it doesn't affect your major," he encouraged. "Try to relax if you can, get to know some of the other students, oh and I forgot to mention, you know you can call any of us here if you need something. We could be there in an hour tops."

"Mm..." Rolling onto his stomach, Keith hugged the pillow with one arm and rested his head. "You sound like a mother." A half laugh, if not a little faint, muffled by the pillow and stifled by something stuck in his throat. He shifted again and cleared his throat. "Anyways, you know me; I'm not just going to switch out of a class 'cause of a teacher. And no I haven't met or talked to anyone yet. I might be getting a roommate, though. Not sure. Apparently they're a special case, so they're not here yet, and I don't know their name."

"Why does everyone say something like that when I worry..." Shiro laughed back, "But yes, I know you're like that, so good luck, be sure to take pictures of what you make when the art classes start. Also, don't forget to check in once in a while just to call." His 'mother' tone came back, "Try to explore a bit though when you are more used to being there, make friends, who knows, maybe a more than friend?" his tone turned teasing with that last part.

"Yes Mom. Though I'm still not sure about the whole friend thing," he replied. "Wait, what?!" His face heated up, "C'mon, really? You know that's not going to happen." He wasn't interested at the moment. "I just want to focus on art."

"I know, I know," Shiro conceded, "But the friends thing, just try it out if you find people you would enjoy spending time with, but yes, focus on your art. It's your passion and it's why you're there. Do your best and enjoy those classes when they start."

Keith sighed softly, closing his eyes, "Right. Alright. Oh c'mon Shiro, you know me. I was the top of my classes." Even the boring ones, no matter how hard it was to concentrate. A chuckle, "I'll be fine."

"You're right," Shiro agreed, "You will be, but still, any trouble and call." he reminded him again. "I'm going to let you go soon. Let you get settled and eat dinner, that's another thing, make sure to eat and stay hydrated! Anything you need before we end call?"

"Yeah yeah. I will." It wasn't that Shiro was overbearing, or truly like a parental figure; he just tended to...over worry. "Mmm, nope. Just tell everyone that I'm alright and that I'll see everyone for Thanksgiving."

"Don't worry, I will, and make sure to call or text everyone also," Shiro added, "when you get time of course. Oh, and if you decide to come to visit a weekend before then, let me know so I can try to get off work." He paused then laughed, "Make sure to try out the gym not too far from campus if you get a chance."

"Will do. And I'll call everyone tomorrow." Keith yawned, "I'll talk to you later. G'night, Shiro."  
  
"Alright, good night Keith," Shiro bid him well, "Get some rest, and good luck with the teacher giving you trouble."

He clicked the phone off and laid there for a while, trying to summon the energy to move. Finally he pushed himself up and headed over to the microwave and mini fridge, taking out a TV dinner. If this was how life was going to be from now on, then it definitely was going to be interesting.

\---

Lance grabbed a bag of chips and sodas from their shelf and fridge respectively. "Okay, snacks and caffeine ready on my end. Now, where is that textbook I needed..." he muttered the last part to himself as he dug around, finding his English book and science books folded together somehow inside his basketball jersey. He shrugged and shoved them into his bag. "Alright Hunk, ready to head down to the study group?"

Hunk hoisted a bag over his shoulder, "Yup, ready. Hopefully they're both not there already."

Lance smiled as they headed down, "Eh it'll be fine! Shay doesn't mind when we're a bit late, and the new kid'll just glare at us over their glasses and complain not to help us study today."

"True." There was a pause, although the silence was not unwelcome or awkward. "Speaking of—I still can't believe they're that young. Like... How old were they again? 14? 15? When I was that age, I was still freaking out about whether or not our team was gonna make the cut for the basketball tournament."

"Think bordering on 15," Lance confirmed, then nodded. "You're telling me man; that was about the time we got our biggest competitor too. Such simple times for us, and here we are headed out to be taught by an actual kid genius." He laughed at that part as they headed out. "And seriously don't worry about it being too late, the meeting place is like a block away."

"Yeah. I never thought I'd see the day." A soft smile graced Hunk's lips at that, "Alright. Though I think something could still make us late...."

Lance just shrugged as they walked, "Nah, we'll be fine, as long as no one attractive comes into our path. If so then I apologize buddy but I have to at least say hi and let them know I exist."

Hunk laughed, "Sorry, but if that happens I'm leaving you behind."

"Oh don't be that mean;" Lance laughed with him, "but don't worry I know these stuffy groups are important for all of us."

Hunk reached into his pocket and pulled out a granola bar, taking a bite. "Hey, we all know that when you start flirting, it's nearly impossible to get your attention again."

"Okay, but only if the person is really sweet AND really pretty or handsome at the same time, you can't deny me that chance," Lance grinned, offering him one of the drinks he packed as they got closer to the study group's meeting place, "Besides, we're almost there and I've not flirted with anyone yet."

"Oh, I'm not. Like I said, I'll just go on ahead and tell everyone that you'll be late while you get a date." Hunk shrugged, "But yeah, true. I will give you that."

Lance just smiled at him, "See? That's the spirit buddy," he blinked then looked at the clock on his phone, "all joking aside, we really are going to be late, come on."

"Ah, right! Coming!" Anxiety prickling away, twisting in his gut and shaking his hands, Hunk ended up leading as they started hurrying along.

Lance nodded, following after him, patting his back, "Don't worry Hunk, if we miss any of the study time we can do extra when back to dorm later."

Hunk smiled at his friend's attempt at reassurance, "Alright."

\---

"Yeah they just went to a study group." A chair swiveled, gliding across wooden flooring as its occupant searched for tubes of paint. "And before you say anything, I didn't go because I'm not in the same classes. Besides, you know I study better alone."

There was light laughter from the other end of the phone, "I'm aware of that, Keith. When I would try to help you study, you'd tell me right quickly to leave it be." the person paused for a moment, "but if they ask you to hang out otherwise, do say yes if you feel up to it."

He shifted the phone and cradled it between his shoulder and ear, watching as he mixed vibrant hues of yellow, silver, and bronze. "Yeah, yeah sure. I'll probably be too busy though. The school hosts an annual art show and contest so it's going to take up most of my time."

"You'll have to let everyone know when they'll be on display," was heard through the phone, "I may not be able to get to the contest, but I'd love to be able to see it in school's gallery one of the days! At the very least I want pictures taken of it hanging up!"

Keith chuckled lightly and dipped his paintbrush, "Yeah, will do. I'll have to check how long they stay up though. I think it's about a month?"

"Oh that's wonderful, I'll be able to come by on a day off then, hopefully everyone else can come with me," the person said cheerfully, "Maybe I can meet your roommate, they sound very nice!"

"I'm not sure nice is the right word..." Keith set down his brush, "But yeah I'm sure you'll like them. Hopefully anyways. Just be careful with what you say, or they might throw it back at you," he chuckled again.

"I... I'm not quite sure how to respond to that," there was confusion in the person's voice, "however I am positive I will enjoy having them tell me things you are most likely leaving out when I ask about your college experiences."

"Don't worry about it. You'll see what I mean later." Keith leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, "Well, be prepared to be disappointed then. I'm not leaving anything out." Then again, there was nothing to leave out yet.

There was another light laugh, "I don't think you're hiding anything, I just know sometimes others may notice little interesting facts that you don't notice yourself. That would be fun to hear about I think."

He raised an eyebrow. "What? Like what?"

"Nothing much, like your sleep pattern or if you work on your art way too late," were a few teasing suggestions given, but it was clear they were also a bit serious, "I'll admit we're all a bit worried, like everyone was when I headed to college for my first semester."

Something in him tugged at that. "Don't worry," he said with a frown. "I'll be fine. This isn't like my first day of high school, you know. I haven't yelled at a professor. I haven't gotten suspended. No one has docked my grades because I was being too..." he hesitated, "hot-headed. I'm older now, and, well, I'm just more suited for the college life. All of my classes are in the morning, one or two in the afternoon, they're all mainly art and science related, and my roommate lets me have my space. Although, sometimes we do watch alien movies with each other."

"Then I am truly happy that you are doing so well! And that's so great that you and your roommate have found a common interest," there was laughter in the person's voice again, "I'm sure you have a lot of interesting conversations thanks to that."

Keith huffed out a laugh as well, "Yeah. Yeah I suppose we do. We...may or may not have had a few conversations discussing on whether or not aliens exists. I'm not going to get into specifics here," after all, if he did he'd probably go on about it for quite some time, "but if it's brought up when you visit, well there's your context for that."

"Hmm, I think I know well enough where you stand on if they exist or not." there was still a smile in the other's voice, "It will be fun to see how you two agree and differ on it."

"Warning, you'll be sitting there for hours," Keith stretched out in his chair and smiled. "Anyways, I think it's time I get back to my art. Talk to you later."

"Alright, get back to it then, I'll call you again soon. Good luck."  
\--

Shay blinked as she looked up from her textbook to Lance and Hunk where Lance was explaining why they were late. "Right, I still do not see how you discussing possibly running into someone cute, made you five minutes late to meet with us," she laughed, having gotten used to their antics by now.

"Heh heh, y-yeah..." Hunk rubbed the back of his head, freezing as their short friend spoke next.

"Somehow, I'm not surprised." They cracked out a smile and their eyes twinkled under thin-rimmed glasses. "Don't worry about it. Just don't be late next time."  
  
Lance rolled his eyes at them, but was grinning as he laid out his books, passing out sodas and snacks, "Oh lay off Pidge, we're not that bad. Besides, we come bearing gifts!"

Pidge picked up a small bag of pretzels, inspecting it. "Are we even allowed to have food in here?" They've had study groups here before, but normally they didn't have snacks with them.

"Y-yeah. At least I think so. That's what the librarian said when we asked... Right? We did ask her, right?" Hunk twiddled his thumbs in front of him, "Yeah, yeah we did. We just couldn't eat around the computers, right?"

Lance just waved his hand in a dismissive manner, "Oh don't worry about all that, the librarian thinks I'm adorable," he explained as he got a few pretzels, "As long as it's nothing messy we're fine."  
  
Shay nodded, "Well if you two are sure...." she hesitated before getting a couple of the pretzels herself.

Shrugging, Pidge grabbed their own bag and opened it, tossing a few into their mouth. “If you say so. Now, let’s get started.”

"Alright, let’s start studying then," Lance agreed as he finally settled down between them and Hunk, "So about this..."

\--

A few weeks later, Lance was dribbling the ball a bit on his own, trying to toss a few baskets after the rest of the team had left practice. He was really good, but there were members of his team and other teams that were better. He also wanted to be ready if he ever competed against their old rival from middle and high school. He sighed to himself as he packed up to head out. He paused with drinking his water, when he saw what looked like the hair of aforementioned rival go past one of the windows. "I.... I'm nuts.... oh boy I have to tell Hunk about this. He's going to tease me but I have to...." he mumbled to himself as he ran out toward where the group was meeting to study.

\--

“Lance?”

Hunk stared at his friend as, next to him, Pidge and Shay slowly stood up from their chairs. Watching Lance huff out trembling breaths, Hunk slowly walked towards his friend and laid a hand on his shoulder. Deep, trembling sapphire eyes met his own, shooting swirling questions into his head. Faintly, Hunk heard Pidge speak up, but didn't catch all of what they had said.

“—kay? Did you run all the way here?”

"I....fine...." Lance panted as he rested an arm on the side of Hunk's shoulder to catch his breath, then he looked up still wide eyed, "Saw....hair....Hunk! After practice.... saw walking..." he paused to guzzle down a bottle of water Shay had handed him. He took a breath then spoke very quickly, "Hunk help, I'm going crazy, no way he's here, saw hallucination go past window outside of gym!"

“Whoa, whoa, calm down buddy. Here,” Hunk took Lance’s hand off his shoulders, holding both his arms in his firm grip. “I’m going to take him aside to calm down, we’ll be right back.” With nods from both of their friends, Hunk led his friend off to the corner of the library and sat him down in one of the beanbag chairs. “Lance, breathe. What are you talking about? What did you see?”

Lance nodded, leaning into the beanbag a bit, finally catching his breath, "Okay, okay so.... I was finishing solo practice as everyone left. I was getting something to drink, and that's when I saw it! Longer but I saw his hair man!" he said in a screaming tone but quiet voice. "There is no way he is here, but I saw him!!!" He paused, blinking, "Okay so I was maybe thinking about him.....and then like I think my mind created an illusion, but I totally saw him!"

Hunk crossed his arms, leaning back, “Okay, for one that’s not how that works. Two," now he leaned forwards, "are we talking about Keith? Like _the_ Keith? Mullet-man Keith? And you legitimately saw him?” There was no possible way he was there—last time they talked, Keith hadn’t even said anything about college—and yet here they were, discussing the possibility that Lance just saw their long lost friend. “No way, there’s no way dude. What are even the chances that he would have attended the same school as us? Last time we saw him, he hadn’t even decided on a college! And we hadn’t even told him which college we were going to!” He raised his arms in exasperation before bringing them down so his hands pushed squarely down on his thighs.

Lance nodded along to everything Hunk said, then pointed at him. "Exactly! That's exactly my point and why it was an illusion or something! Like I know I'd recognize Keith anywhere, right? So that had to be it, because he can't have come to _this_ school. If he was going here, he'd have been to the gym at least. Even if like somehow his skills didn't get him on the team, he'd be playing for fun or something!" Lance stopped for a moment and sighed, "I'm telling ya man, it's gotta be me hallucinating him since I haven’t found the team he's playing for yet!"

Putting a hand to his chin, Hunk closed his eyes with a frown, “Well you are the right age… No.” He sighed. “Lance, do you know how rare those kind of hallucinations are? You probably just saw someone that looked like him. But I’ll look out for him, and if you notice any drastic change in your own behavior or something, tell me. I’m still only a student but I can at least consult my teacher.”

"Right....yeah that's probably it...." Lance thought for a minute, then shook his head. "Going to keep a look out on my part also though. I'm telling ya I know that hair style and color! I know his head profile shape...whatever." Lance explained, completely missing how almost stalkerish that sounded. "We'll work together, yeah? And, let’s not tell Pidge and Shay in detail about this, especially Pidge... They'll tease me non-stop about it!"

“Agreed. And I know, I know buddy. If he is here, I want to know why he gave up basketball.” Hunk pushed himself up, “Wasn’t he, like, super passionate about it once we hit our last year of middle school and then all throughout high school?”

"Yes! He was so good at changing plans when he needed to!" Lance beamed, "We were so good against him and him against us. I need to play against him again, and if he's here that means I can't so we have to figure this out! I am positive it's him!"

“Couldn’t you play an unofficial one-on-one game with him? Though if he’s here and not playing basketball then maybe that’s really not possible?” What if he no longer liked it?

"Okay yeah, that's....yeah that would work!" Lance reasoned, "So for now we look out for him, maybe see if we can find him, sure his name is somewhere in a pic on his uniform...." He smiled over at Hunk, "On our down time, and days we don't have study group, we will look into this!"  
  
Hunk nodded, “Yeah. Yeah sounds good. Now let's get back before they start to worry.”

Lance nodded, relaxing a bit as they headed back over to the others, and he'd not admit to Hunk, but he may be secretly looking around and through any window nearby for Keith.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the strange Keith sightings keep Hunk and Lance occupied, our resident artist is paid a visit by an old mentor just before the school art competition. Will they finally meet? Or will something happen to prolong such a heartwarming reunion?

Keith sighed and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed while shooting a smoldering glare at the art in front of him. He only had a few days left to finish it, but there was still something missing

and he couldn’t figure out what. "This is impossible," he groaned and picked up one of the sheets of paper, scrutinizing it. The blue paint which swirled around the faceless figure felt vast, deep, and yet somehow…empty. And yet he couldn’t put his finger on why. What was it? What was it that was missing? Keith stood and pinched the bridge of his nose as he set the paper down again, pressure building up behind his forehead. "Where’d Pidge put the aspirin?"

A soft and gentle tapping on the door interrupted his search, drawing out another sigh. "Come in! The door’s unlocked."

The door opened gently as someone stepped in, "You know, you really shouldn't leave your door unlocked like that and invite people in without knowing who it is first." was said teasingly but also a bit worriedly.

Water gushed out of a faucet, quickly filling a glass cup. "Ehh, it’ll be fine. This school has great security, and we both know I used to take self-defense classes," Keith downed the water, washing down two pills, before looking back at his visitor and smiling. "So don’t worry Shiro."

Shiro just sighed and shook his head as he sat down on the edge of Keith's bed, not wanting to take his desk since it's clear he'd been working on stuff, "Well still, be a bit more cautious..." He looked over to the painting Keith had been working on, "Oh, is this what you're entering in the show soon? It's really good, Keith. Sorry I won't be here during the time it's up, but I can tell it's going to do really well. What's the idea behind it?"

"Yeah, yeah." Keith headed over, eyebrows furrowing. "It’s less than an idea and more…created from emotions, really." Carefully he took the two sheets of paper into his hands, smiling now. "I don’t remember their names, or their faces really, but they were… Well, I don’t really know what to call them, but I guess you could say we were friends in middle school and high school. And these are the elements I associated them with." He set the first paper down, fingertips lightly brushing against the stroke of brilliant blue. "Water." Next he set down the second, fingers resting on the deep, but warm, earthly tones of the paint. "And earth." For a moment, silence enveloped them, but it wasn’t thick, but warm and comfortable. His soft chuckle broke that silence, "They’d probably tease me if they could hear me now. I wonder how they’re doing…"

Shiro smiled as he looked them over, "I'm sure if you ever run into them and are able to know them these, they would love them." He looked them over, really seeing a lot of emotion in it, suddenly feeling a bit sad, "To bad you three aren't able to talk right now, but I'm sure you'll see them again. At the very least, when you get the best review on these, I bet they'll see you in all the college news articles about it."

"You think so?" He shrugged, "Would they even be able to get my number at that point? I doubt they’d just take a surprise trip up here for me."

Shiro smiled, "Wouldn't be that hard if they were nearby; if not I'm sure they could figure it out, but either way, this is a really cool tribute to your friends."

"Really? You think so?" He looked down at the pictures again, smiling, "But, thank you. There’s…something missing still though, and I can’t figure out what."

"Yeah, I'm positive," Shiro encouraged him then looked at the pictures thoughtfully, "Well you have a few days before you have to submit it in right? I'm sure it'll come to you before then. If not, you could seriously get very high grades for them as is."

Thanks, but I’m not really interested in the grades." He sighed, "But hopefully you’re right and it does come before I have to submit it. It wouldn’t feel right, entering it into the school art show when it’s not complete…"

Shiro hummed. "Sure it will, and ya know, that's why you're so good at your art, doing it for you and not the grades that come with it. That's part of why I know you'll do great things with your skills." he nodded, patting his back. "Just be sure to let me know how people react to it okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded, first to himself, as if affirming Shiro’s views, and then to Shiro himself in response. "Thank you, and… I will."

Shiro smiled, then looked around, "So what else have you been up to lately? Also, your dorm room is a lot nicer than the one I had, you lucked out with that." he pointed out.

"Nothing really," he said while putting down his art. "Just studying and working on schoolwork, mostly. Sometimes I hang out with Pidge though." Keith glanced around, "Really? You must have had a really small dorm."

"Had about the same space for beds and desks, things like that, but not as much sitting space," Shiro added, "It was still pretty alright though."

"That's good." Keith smiled, walking over to the makeshift bunk, resting his hand on the galaxy-patterned sheet on top. "It's usually fine, but sometimes it's a bit too small when I do want to be left alone." He hauled himself up and patted the space next to him as invitation for Shiro to follow. "I guess I'm lucky since my roommate goes to a study group every day."

Shiro jumped up on the other end to make sure he didn't hurt either of them, "That's good at least, too much time in one room I could see becoming an issue for any roommates," he smiled, "I'd suggest you joining that group but I got word you have valid reasons not to, so I won't. However...if they ever hang out here, it won't hurt to get to know them some."

"I guess. Only if I like them." He brushed a lock of hair to the side, looking away from Shiro. "But I already know Pidge, and I've met Matt, not to mention I have you and...everyone else. Do I really need to?" Quiet. His heart pumped in his chest, soft but loud enough for him to hear over their hushed breathing. Silence, quietness... He was so accustomed to it, even found it...comforting. It balanced out the noise that he had, too, had grown accustomed to, although he didn't quite like the sound as much. Pidge, Matt, Shiro, his family... He cherished them, but did he really need more? "...I'd rather stay and paint here and talk to you guys and Pidge. And I don't really see the point if all we're going to be is separated after college..." Just like his other friends...

"Well yeah, if you don't like them then yeah it's not a good idea," Shiro responded after being silent for a moment to figure out best way to cheer him up, sensing sadness as he spoke. "But

hey, you never know, they could end up being your best friends, I'm still in contact with some of my college friends? It's easier than it was in high school, for me at least."

"Maybe... I guess you have a point." Keith smiled softly and finally looked up at Shiro and his worrying eyes. "Honestly though Shiro; who would want to stop being friends with you?"

Shiro smiled at that, laughing a little, "Well you're biased since we've been friends for so long, but it's the same for you."

"And I could say the same to you." For a few minutes, they sat in a comfortable silence, appreciating each other's presence. "Anyways, if you don't have to be anywhere, do you want to go hang out somewhere?"

Shiro laughed again, "Sure, it’d be good to walk around, maybe get lunch to take with me before I leave. Sure you know a good, cheap place with takeout near here. And you can show me anything around that you've wanted to paint here."

"Sounds good," he slid off the bed. "Let's head off then."

Shiro nodded, following after him, "I may get tired, not used to walking the length of a campus for things anymore." he joked as they left the building.

\---

"Okay, wait. You've seen him _how_ many times?" Hunk leaned over on his bed, arms supporting him against the firm mattress.

"Well six...that I'm positive of, five of those," Lance whined, side of his face pressed against his pillow, "and you haven't seen him any, therefore I really think I'm seeing things! And like it's always the side or back of his head from far off!"

"Lance..." Hunk laid a hand on his friend's shoulder, "Trust me, you're probably not seeing things. This school is just huge, which is probably why I haven't seen him. We'll find a chance to talk to him, don't worry about it. Alright?"

Lance frowned and turned over a bit, looking toward Hunk, "Right, but that means he must go to school here if you're theory is correct... And I'm not that lucky..."

"Yeah, but if that's true, then it'll be fine. Actually...isn't that better? You can't play any official games with him, and...it means he's stopped playing basketball, but doesn't that mean we get to hang out with him again?"

"Yeah, I look forward to that, just hope we find him before we all graduate," Lance sighed. "At this rate of 'illusion glances' I don't know if we will."

Hunk smiled, "We will. Worse comes to worse we can just go to the housing office and see if they'll tell us where his dorm is."

"Right, good idea," Lance nodded, "But that's a last resort... I...we don't want to seem like stalkers right?"

"Oh, right, right. Yeah," Hunk laughed, something bubbling in his chest. "...We don't seem like stalkers now, right?"

Lance looked at his friend, shaking his head honestly, "Nah, we're just trying to prove I'm not going crazy, and like I'm not seeing him because I’m actively searching, he's just...there..."

"Okay. I hope we find him soon." He wondered if Keith had made any friends; outside of them he didn't really seem to talk to people much even in high school, not to mention middle school. Then again, he did go to different schools than them... "Think he'll have any friends to introduce us to?"

"Maybe? He did like to keep to himself, but sure at least he's met one or two people to hang out with," Lance smiled remembering something, "He seemed to get along with us more easily than his team."

"That's true." Hunk smiled to himself, eyes deepening and focusing on the wall in front of them. "I hope he'll still get along with us."

"Mhmm, I'm sure we'll be fine, unless I convince him to play one-on-one," Lance grinned, "Then we'll get along in basketball terms until after, but that's if he agrees. It wouldn't be any fun if he didn't want to, and since you're sure it's not illusions, something I still debate, then he'd one hundred percent not been on the court."

"It's not like you could force him anyways." Hunk frowned, "Yeah. I wonder if he's been practicing on his own somewhere."

"Hmm, it's possible, there are a lot of places with hoops nearby, parks, gyms, things like that," Lance shrugged, "Could be he's picked some hard major and doesn't have time."

"Keith? Really?" Hunk raised an eyebrow, "I know he mentioned taking AP courses in high school, but he was in basketball too. And he's stubborn." Would he really drop basketball because of a difficult major?

"Hmmm," Lance shifted sitting up, "Yeah, you're probably right, so he's either practicing on his own, or just doesn't feel like it." He frowned a little, "It would be a lot easier if these 'illusions' were closer and I could actually ask."

He laughed, "Yeah. Have you tried calling out to him yet? Maybe he'll answer if you do."

Lance laughed a little, "Heh...well you see, I um, tried that? But then I stopped midway calling out. I didn't know what to say so..."

"Lance!" Slapping a hand to his face, Hunk sighed, "Well, if you see him again, actually do that."

"I know, I know!" He smiled awkwardly, "I froze up, and also didn't want to seem creepy about it. But you're right, next time I can at least try. Call out his name at least."

"I might not be the best person to say this..." He draped an arm over Lance's shoulder, "But you won't seem creepy. It'll be fine."

Lance smiled at him, "Thanks buddy, and hopefully next time, we'll both be there, or he'll be in closer range, if you're right about it being real of course," he added, mostly jokingly.

Hunk nodded and, finally, they moved onto more idle conversation. But even still, their thoughts swirled around the topic of Keith, and they pushed down their anxieties just for today. Whether Keith was really there, or Lance was somehow imagining it, the worries buried themselves deep into the back of their minds to be addressed another day.

\--

Lance yawned as he and Hunk walked toward the school’s art show, "I know it'll be interesting to see, and I don't regret not getting out of it, but..." he glanced to where it was clearly a bit crowded ahead of them, "Pidge not wanting to, and Shay wanting to finish her paper, they lucked out not having to deal with the lines that there are going to be for each artist."

"They'll probably go tomorrow when it's less crowded." Cool air gently buffeted against them, tugging on knitted sweaters and soft scarves. "Part of me wonders if we should have waited anyways since it's so cold today..." Then again it was February. Tomorrow would probably be just as cold.

"Eh it's fine," Lance shrugged, "Means we can stay in our beds tomorrow and sleep all day. Besides, it's more fun in the end to see it on days the artists are there to show it."

"Technically." Hunk frowned, "We still have studying to do. Finals are coming up you know."

"Yeah, but if Pidge and Shay come here, then we can study in our room," he pointed out, "Study so much and also I can nap to recover from each section I study, it's a win-win for me."

"That's true...." Dirt and snow kicked up as they slowed to a stop outside the moving mass of visitors. "Oh man... There's so many people."

Lance looked around, "Well...." he started walking to where the paths started to flow, "Looks like we'll at least make some new friends being this close to them."

"I'd...rather not." At least like that. "But y'know, I guess you gotta make the best of a bad situation. Hahaha...ha."

"Ah, Hunk, don't worry about it buddy, we're just going to look at the art you wanted to see, and then possibly compliment some of the artists, right?" Lance reminded him as they finally got close to the stalls.

Hunk smiled with appreciation, and proceeded to start rambling. "Yeah. Yeah, yeah right. And everything will go well. I won't, y'know, say something totally embarrassing on accident or anything." A dry laugh before half-burying the anxiety that kept clawing its way up. "A-anyways... Right. Thanks, man."

Lance smiled, patting Hunk on the shoulder, "You kidding? You say the nicest things to everyone, you could tell the best artist here you didn't understand their art and they'd explain it to you in every detail, with a smile."

"Really?" Hunk rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish smile, "You think so?"

Lance just nodded, leading him in, "Of course, people can't help but want to become your friend! Now come on, you wanted to come the most right? Let's enjoy it!"

Hunk beamed and they paid the entrance fee before heading in.

The building as they entered brimmed with the lethargic crowd, ever moving through the exhibits. Moving through at their own pace, the two friends resisted the flow, not lingering too long unless a piece really caught their eye. Art was categorized by type and then artist, often times seeing pieces by one artist in two different places.—"'Zarkon'? That _has_ to be a nickname dude."—They met a few artists whom had decided to attend themselves, some more friendly than others, and, despite Hunk's misgivings, their talks went just about as well as was expected.

As the night went on, the number of guests dwindled to the point of being able to spot individual people again, and their energy diminished. "This has been fun, but I'm definitely ready to head back now," Hunk said as he rubbed his aching stomach. It was time for dinner anyway, and they had skipped lunch to study, so they only had had some snacks since breakfast. "What about you?"

"Yeah that sounds good, let's start heading out, catch a few more as we head back to the exit," Lance suggested, stretching a bit from walking all day, but he'd really enjoyed the paintings, especially the nerdy ones some people had done.

"Sounds good." Hunk stretched out as well as they walked, being careful not to hit someone in the face with his arms. "So what do you want for dinner once we get back? Do you just want to order pizza? Or maybe I could make something. I was thinking maybe chicken and bean enchiladas? Or maybe some chili. Ooo, both of those sound—" The words died on his tongue and the noise around him fell away as time slowed to a slug's pace. There, right next to them, a large painting had caught his attention. Yellow and blue swirled around each other in a torrent, but also branching off each other, those same tendrils gusting two figures. The blue shimmered, legitimately shimmered, with light as he moved his head to examine it. The figure it threatened to encompass held his ground and—No. No why did he think it was threatening him? No, the figure depicted—a faceless, and yet somehow familiar, teenage boy—seemed to be commanding it, bending what he now realized was water. Commanding. Yes, even without an expression, he seemed to give off a feeling of power. One hand raised just above his brow, with the other arching down and out, white tugged against brown skin and, faintly, Hunk realized that the white cloth belonged to his and Lance's old school uniform. Black blazer (missing), slightly unbuttoned white shirt, black pants... "What the..?" The boy in the painting, in such a defensive stance...could it be Lance? All the details were so intricate... It had to be? Didn't it? Even the ponytail, although it was a little bit longer than he remembered it being...

Slowly, cautiously, Hunk stepped closer. Now that he was mere inches from the large portrait, he could notice intricate and swirled lines, faint but there, tattooed on the young-Lance's skin. Even on the exposed skin of his collarbone and upper chest. Lance didn't have tattoos. Was this really Lance then?

He wandered over to examine the second half of the portrait and—Wait. No. "Hold on." How had he missed it before? The gold framing? This wasn't one giant portrait, it was two, made with the intent of an illusion of one. Big, powerful, a figure similar to himself stood grounded, arms raised in a similar, but mirror opposite, of Lance's. Large, and small, pieces of earth and rock alike torrented around him on yellow, except maybe torrented wasn't the correct word... For, somehow, despite the powerful air about him, there seemed to be a gentleness about the yellow, embedded with tones of silvery orange. Not unlike Lance, he too wore his uniform—again the blazer was missing and he was uncertain as to why—with his white shirt unbuttoned, although the sleeves were rolled up this time. Faceless, with an orange slip of cloth tied around his dark forehead and hair. Like when he was younger, he too had a ponytail here. Except perhaps it was shorter than it had been, and a very different pattern—swirled but, unlike Lance's whose were closer to waves, more like flowers or blades of grass—tattooed his dark skin. "Who had...?" Fear bubbled and broiled in his chest and stomach, nauseating him with the anxiety. Who had made this? Did he want to know? He gulped, and looked down at the silver nameplate just under the portrait.

He grabbed onto Lance's arm. "L-Lance. Lance it's—"

Lance didn't seem to hear him at first, he was staring transfixed at the painting, he stepped a bit closer to it, wondering how? This had to be them but who would draw them? He blinked, then glanced to where Hunk's eye line was, recognizing the first name and part of the last name instantly, "I... Hunk! It can't be right? Oh my God...." he looked between the name and the painting, then with widened eyes, back at Hunk. He looked at his friend in shock for a moment, "If this is...he must—" he cut himself off as he started turning and looking all around the booth.

Hunk snapped around and, too, looked around for the artist. Not just an artist, but the artist, their friend, their high school best friend. "Keith? Keith?!" Hunk called into the crowd. People turned and stared, but somehow it didn't register. All he could focus on was Keith. He had to be here. He had to—

Someone walked quickly past them and the first thing Hunk noticed was the long black hair styled into a pseudo-mullet. "Oh my God." He grabbed onto Lance's arm again, clutching it tightly that it would leave bruises the next day. "Lance. Lance. I think I found your ‘hallucination’, which is not a hallucination and would be very unlikely to ever be one just to remind you."

Lance's head snapped toward where Hunk was turning him, "Oh...oh my God.... Hunk you see him too right?!" Lance took a few steps forward, trying to find a voice loud enough, "Keith!" He hoped he would be heard but also was scared to call out to him too much, but Hunk said he was really there...that means.... "HEY! KEITH?!"

Hunk opened his mouth to continue his semi-rant on hallucinations again, but stopped when the person they called out to turned around. He held one earbud in his hand, music barely audible like static in the crowd. Gray-violet eyes stared at them and his eyebrows furrowed. "...Yeah? What is it?" He seemed to pause, and the strange unfamiliarity didn't clear up. Keith pulled his headphone's out completely now, but otherwise seemed somewhat...defensive, now. Why? Why did he— "How did you know my name? Did you get it off of the plaque?"

"W-what? N-no! I mean...sorta! But, no that's not where we learned it! Right Lance?"

"I-I, no! That's not how we..." Lance was confused, he'd clearly drew them, and yet didn't recognize them? What was going on...? "You, you're Keith, you played against us in basketball for years in school!" Lance pointed out, voice breaking a bit from confusion, "You...you—" he didn't know what to say next so he pointed at the painting, "We're right there!"

Keith's eyes followed Lance's finger, looking between the two of them. Hunk waited for the recognition to come, but the longer he studied them both, the more he became confused.

"What are you talking about?" It was a little hard to breath in this stuffy room. And there was so much noise that it was annoying to concentrate on what they were saying. Right there? Basketball? Really? Was he even hearing any of this correctly? Honestly he just wanted to get a few more pictures for Shiro and the rest of them and leave. But these two were— "You're saying you two are the ones in my paintings?"

"Y-yes! We have to be! Right? Like...that's us! That's what we looked like in high school! But you wouldn't know what we had looked like if you didn't know us! I mean, it could be a coincidence, but isn't it kinda strange?" Hunk sighed, "Look, doesn't any of this ring any bells? Basketball? Rivals?"

"I...sorta. Okay, look." Keith shook his head and took a few heavy steps over, pointing over at Hunk and then Lance. "I don't know how you know about my time playing basketball and my fr-rivals. But trust me, I would have..." Something shimmered in his eyes and Keith backed off, looking down and seeming almost...vulnerable. Maybe he wouldn't... He looked up again. "It doesn't matter. Even if I couldn't recognize them, there's no way in hell we'd end up in the same college purely by coincidence. I'm just not that lucky. Or if I was, it ran out a long time ago."

Lance was silent during this exchange, just kind of in shock that Keith was in front of him. He shook his head at what Keith was saying, "No! You are! You're really that lucky! Keith, you and I played opposite of each other since middle school! Here, see!" he pulled out something from the college team from his pocket, "I even got onto the basketball team here! I...I don't understand why you don't recognize us, but we're serious! I—we'll do what we need to to prove it!"

Hunk watched as Keith clenched and unclenched his hands several times, staring at them both still and the trinket of the team basketball mascot. Why didn't he seem to recognize them? He

tore his own gaze away from them and towards the picture. Why could he paint this and get almost all the details right? From the smallest details like them wearing ponytails to...to... "Hey." He knew he probably looked weird, concentrating as hard as he was on the faces. Or, should he say, lack of faces? But this had to mean something. There had to be a reason for leaving them faceless, right? "Are you...face blind?"

Keith didn't say anything. Maybe he couldn't. It must be hard to find the words to explain why you forgot what your best friends looked like. But then his voice rose, not enough to be heard above the rabble of the crowd around them. He cleared his throat and spoke again. "Sort of... It's... Well, even if I was even somewhat, it wouldn't explain why I don't recognize your names. Or…well...his, anyways," he offhandedly jabbed a thumb at Lance. "But if you really want to prove it, then one-on-one me. Or one-on-two. I don't care either way. Even if I can't recognize your faces or voices, I'll at least recognize your playing style if we really did play together."

Lance grinned, eyes shining at the idea, "You're on! Oh this is great, I've wanted to play with you since I got into college, man! Was hoping you'd be on an opposing team but this is great!" he grinned, then paused to make sure saying yes was okay with Hunk, "If Hunk agrees then two-on-one, but if not, you, me, the inside court!" He was practically bouncing in place, "Oh this is going to be great! Ah, but if you're a bit rusty, don't think I'm going easy on you! I know your ability, so I can't go easy on my rival!"

Keith's face screwed up, "...You kind of act like him..."

It was soft, but Hunk heard Keith's words and beamed. He was starting to recognize them, wasn't he? "Yeah, I'll join. I don't play anymore either, but if this will help you recognize us then I'm in."

Lance's smile brightened, "I knew you'd start to remember me, so just let us know when you want this challenge and we'll meet you! I'm ready anytime!

"After finals. The day after," he said with certainty. "What is your room number? I'll come and get you. Or we can meet at the gym."

"Alright! That's perfect," Lance said as he told him their building and room number, "Meet us there, and then you'll know it's us!"

"Okay." He hesitated a moment before raising his earbuds again. "I'll see you then."

Lance just nodded, waving to him dorkily, "Right! See you then, um but maybe see you around before then, if I do I will say hi maybe!"

"Ah, uh. Yeah." Keith slipped his earbuds back in and smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. "See you..."

Hunk ignored this, feeling as if pointing it out would make the situation more awkward for Keith at the very least. And himself. He couldn't tell if Lance was feeling awkward at all though. It bothered him, but if possible he wanted to spare him too. "See you. I'll stop by and say hi if I see you around as well. But, y'know with finals and such, I don't know when that'll be." Hunk added,

hoping it would alleviate some pressure...if Keith was feeling any. Now that he thought about it, he seemed pretty calm...

Their reluctant friend waved a hand in acknowledgement, disappearing into the crowd.

"Yeah...see ya Keith," Lance smiled, watching Keith a moment, before turning to Hunk, "Alright buddy, time to head back now, I need to go to bed early if I want to make sure I practice well before we compete!"

　

As they started heading back, Lance became a bit curious of what had happened. All this time of looking for Keith, or thinking he'd hallucinated him, and he was really here. Not only at their college, but making beautiful art based on the two of them. It was something Lance still couldn't quite understand, how had Keith drawn something so emotional of them...and yet didn't recognize them? Sure, it was common for people to lose track of what people looked like, he understood that, but Lance would be lying if he said it didn't sting a little that Keith didn't believe they had been telling the truth.

He sighed, he wanted to ask Hunk about it, but he'd wait until they got back. He shoved his hands in his pockets, thinking over what to do, and he was ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of his mind on why it was bugging him so much, but exams were soon, that meant he'd get to play him again. That's what his goal had been all along, to be able to find and hopefully play against him... Just he didn't expect it to go like this.

When they got back to their dorm, Lance collapsed on his bed, sighing again, looking over at Hunk curiously, "Hey Hunk...? Do you really think playing against him will make him fully remember us? I wish there was something more we can do. Like, we know he's here now, ya know? It makes me really want to hang out with him! Invite him to eat with us or go to the library to study, something...but for now we have to wait... This sucks..."

"Well..." Hunk stopped walking towards the kitchen and frowned a bit. "We don't really have a choice, do we? If he has some level of face blindness, or has trouble recognizing faces, and he doesn't seem to recognize our names, then this is all we can really do, right? When you acted like you did back in high school, with all that rival talk, he seemed to start to recognize us I think. Or you at least. So I think it'll work, maybe..." Sighing, he crossed into the kitchen and started looking for a pan. "I can't say that I'm not worried though. Actually I'm kind of..." Hunk dropped the pan onto the stove, his breathing a little funny. "I'm scared too. I'm trying not to think about it. I am. But I can't help it. The thoughts just keep racing to my head! What if he doesn't remember us dude? W-we could maybe be friends still but it would be different. We both have these memories, but we wouldn't be able to talk about them! And our relationship with him would be different. What if we just freak him out?" He stuttered and trembled and held onto the stove for support. "I—I want to hang out with him too. But if this doesn't work, can we?"

Lance nodded, sighing again as he got up to help Hunk, "It'll be weird, but will work it out," he gave Hunk a sad smile, "Besides, do you know who you're talking to? ...I won't give up." He had decided to channel his worry into action, "I'm going to make sure he remembers us, it's a bit of time until the game, so I'm going to pull out the works, wear the uniform from high school, act as

much like I did during games then as I can. If the match doesn't work... I'll...look, don't worry about it! We'll figure something out as an alternative!"

Hunk nodded and decided to focus on his breathing for a moment. In, out. "Right. I...yeah. You never give up..." If he was honest, he wished he didn't so easily. "Maybe...maybe we won't have to use an alternative...?" It was a faint hope. And probably a hopeless one. But it was all he had.

Lance patted his friend's back, "It'll be fine, you'll see, within a couple weeks we'll be annoying the heck outta him, but he'll remember us so it'll be okay." he walked around to get things out of their mini food cabinet, "For now let’s focus on eating good meals so we can win against him when we play, right?" Lance wasn't completely sure if during this he was comforting just Hunk, or himself also.

"Yeah, yeah..." Hunk smiled. It was half-hearted and shaky, but it was a smile, and progress. "Here," he walked over and helped Lance with grabbing the ingredients for dinner. "Help me get the pan heated up while I open the can of beans."

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of run-ins with Hunk and Lance leaves Keith off kilter and the other boys desperate. What should they do, when Keith's memories of that time were as spotty as the snowflakes that fell from the sky?

Keith didn't head back to his room right away. Despite the cold and the mental exhaustion that weighed him down like a ton of bricks, he ended up going running instead. Ill-advised and only in his sweatshirt and jeans? Probably. But even if the sweatshirt wasn't thick enough to ward off the cold, and the jeans were tight enough to painfully rub against his legs—but not tight enough to give him friction burns—it didn't matter to him at that moment. Not a lot did. The only thing that did, in fact, was the one goal he had in mind; avoid questions on the situation (ergo, avoid Pidge), and call Shiro the minute he sorted out just what exactly he was feeling. And neither of those things were going to happen without a quick run.

 Strangely enough, he didn't feel at all panicked. Sure his breath was pitched, and his chest stung with the cold, but there was a weird, almost uncanny and surreal sort of calmness that had settled down in his mind. Like a fog, he realized dimly. Okay, so maybe it wasn't exactly calmness he was feeling. But it wasn't panic or awkwardness either, which was equally confusing. Just what was it? What was it? Keith gritted his teeth and spiked the volume of his music so that it drowned out everything but one memory that had floated up in his mind. 'Patience yields focus.' Maybe not the most applicable advice, but all the same he clung to it and the memory of Shiro's voice. And, by extension, the rest of his family as well.

 Numbness ached in his fingers and started working its way up his hand as the minutes passed and he had yet to cease running. He knew he'd have to get inside soon and warm up, but for now he stuffed his hands in his pockets as a sort of temporary solution. The cold was finally starting to help him think, thoughts and feelings breaking through the dazed fog that had settled over him earlier. Anxiety bubbled and then subsided, letting him acknowledge the emotion, but not long enough to let it overtake him as he pushed it aside. Next was spiked confusion. His whole body was cold, except for his chest, where his heart fluttered painfully in his chest. He was too hot, and too cold, all at once and, somehow, he knew that this wouldn't be fixed even if he stepped inside one of the nearby buildings. Keith tried pushing this aside as well, but it only allowed that bubbling anxiety to return.

It wasn't alone.

Nauseating guilt settled in his stomach now, too. Why? He didn't know. Something tugged at the back of his mind, something about forgetting his friends. But he didn't allow himself to listen. The idea was frightening, somehow, and somewhat misplaced, he thought. He remembered them. He had painted them. He still had plans for another art project including them. How could he have forgotten them? And yet the memory of the taken aback and heartbroken expressions of those two strangers caused bile to rise up in his throat and a new heaviness to settle in his chest. _Maybe I did._ He thought, belatedly, a little sadly. But he couldn't be sure, and he really didn't want to linger on it lest he legitimately ended up dispelling his lunch out on the campus grass. So, despite the rising nausea, he settled on the resolve to call Shiro next.

 He ended up doing this at the opposite end of the campus from where his dorm room was, sitting at the foot of the statue of a historical figure whose name escaped him. He was huddled up, curled in on himself to allow for some, quite minor, extra warmth. With only one hand, he took his phone and requested for it to call Shiro for him. It rang, the seconds passed, and he grew afraid that Shiro wouldn't pick up, busy at his job or helping with dinner at his own house. But he did, not too long after he had called despite it feeling a lot longer to Keith, and warmth flooded into him at his voice. It was a small comfort, at least.

"Hey Keith, sorry if took a few minutes, was just getting in the house from work," Shiro explained, the sound of keys landing on a table could be heard. "So what's up, how did the art show go today? I was planning to call you in a bit about it actually."

 "...It's fine," he answered, truthfully. How did he explain this? Keith took a shaky breath to center himself, and debated on how to answer the question. Finally he settled on cutting to the point of the matter. It would be easier that way, and he wouldn't get cold feet. "Shiro...do you remember the names of my friends from high school?" His voice was a little soft, maybe a little shaky as well, but Shiro would hear it and hopefully not get too concerned. Although the worry was inevitable, and he normally found it somewhat comforting if not amusing, he didn't want to hear it yet.

"You mean the ones you hung out with after your team played them?" Shiro asked, wondering where this was going, but he'd let Keith get here, "Not really sure I heard their names, but one was bigger built and taller then you and the other was, well lanky and always seemed to be doing something, seemed kinda hyper, why?"

Keith's chest constricted a bit at that. It matched the description of the people who had talked to him, but it didn't really answer anything. They could still be lying. Or they weren't and it really was them. He didn't know, and it hurt, somehow. "Just...at the art gallery, two people who saw my paintings claimed to be them. But I didn't recognize them, and now we're going to be playing a match. What if it's them, Shiro? What if it's them and I forgot what they looked like?" What if it was them, and it turned out that basketball was the only thing that used to tie their friendship together? "I don't know what to do."

"Oh Keith... I can imagine this has to be confusing for you, and them as well probably," Shiro paused to think, "I don't think they would lie to you, but anything is possible. I think if they want to play with you though, I think it must be true." He wanted to be honest, but also didn't want to make Keith worry more. "If it is them, then after you play, that means you have two more people there to spend time with, right? You wanted to see them again, so this is a good thing if it's true. I'm sure they won't hold you forgetting what they look like against you."

Shifting on the pavement, he curled up a bit more and rested his head on his knees while his free hand tugged at a lock of hair. "Maybe you're right." The words were slightly muffled against his pants, "But you didn't see their expressions when I said I didn't recognize them. I..." He swallowed, "I hurt them Shiro." If it really was them, if he came to recognize them after the match, what did he do to make up for that?

"I can't say they weren't sad, anyone would be," he pointed out. "Though, think of it this way, if they were upset, but still want to try, doesn't that mean that it's a good thing? That they want to try on their end also? I'm sure it'll be a little difficult at first to get into a routine with them as friends, but don't worry; because they'd still want to try, it'll all work out in the end.”

For the longest time, Keith didn't speak. He didn't know what to say, and he was getting cold and tired. Physically, anyways. Finally, he mustered up the energy to say, "Thanks Shiro," before he fell quiet again. Shiro had helped quell some of his anxieties for now, but a few were still spiking up. One of them including his roommate. "Hey... Once I get back to the dorm, how should I explain this to Pidge if they ask?"

"Just let them know you ran into some people that know you, and it was so unexpected it threw you for a loop?" Shiro suggested, "If you want to tell them more about it when you've relaxed more, that'll be good. And hey, if things work out, you four may all hang out together sometimes, so it could be good for all of you."

 "...Hang out," he echoed, testing the words on his tongue. He still wasn't sure on how he felt about it yet. If these people weren't his former friends then... "Maybe. But alright. Thanks." Maybe he'd go head to the library after this. Even with Shiro's advice, he didn't want to head back yet. In fact, solitude seemed pretty appealing at this point. At least to gain back some energy. Recharge... Think this all through again...

"No thanks needed, you know that," Shiro spoke after a few seconds, "And you know you can call me about any of this as you figure it out. Call if you need any help or advice with your finals too. I know that's something that's stressful also."

Keith smiled softly and readjusted his position again. "Okay. I will. I'm going to head to the library now since it's getting colder out here, so I'm going to let you go. I'll talk to you later?"

"Alright then, I'll let you get to that," Shiro agreed, "I'm going to get something to eat, which don't forget to do if you study too long by the way, and then relax a bit, but call back at any point if you need to. Later."

"Later." Keith tapped the screen and slid the phone into his pocket, but didn't get up right away. He sat there, expression blank, staring into nothingness, as he went over the conversation in his head. Shiro said that everything would be alright. But he had forgotten to ask him, caught up in the moment, about what to do if he _didn't_ recognize them. That was a scarier thought than the alternative. If he didn't, and they were lying, who was to say that they would leave him alone after? His mind blanked again and he was left to watch the puffs of whiteness that was his breath. Little clouds, created from CO 2 dispelled by his working lungs. His friend from all those years ago, the loud and lanky one with eyes like water but competitive spirit like fire, would probably laugh at his description of his breath-clouds. Just a little, but not maliciously. Never maliciously. And his other friend, the one seemingly solid as a rock, but really a giant teddy bear, would point out that he wasn't exactly wrong, but laugh a little too. Both of them were so kind. Kind, and fun. And loud. Maybe a little too comical sometimes, and maybe a bit too energetic. But...he missed them all the same. He missed that energy, the noise, even if some days it were too much for him.

Vaguely, he recalled the last day he saw them. Even faceless, there was a sense of...sadness to it. To him. But his friends waved on, maybe even happily. He couldn't tell, their voices wouldn't reach his ears and there were no expressions to go off of. He could only wave back, and even then he only stopped once they had walked out the door. His hand didn't drift back down until several moments later.

Dots of white pulled him out of the memory, Keith's hand outstretched in front of him. Coldness suddenly dotted his skin, and when he looked up, thousands of snowflakes lazily drifted down towards him. They danced alone, hitting his cheek, his exposed skin, and then subsequently melting a second later. _Like the memory of their faces_ , he thought. _Ephemeral and fragile like glass._ He couldn't look away, but was forced to blink when one landed in his eye. It broke the entrancing moment.

Keith decided it was time to leave. But before he did, he uttered one wish under his breath. "Please let it be you two." It melted into the night, just like the snow that landed on his skin and the memories he just couldn't seem to hold onto.

* * *

* * *

 

The library was silent. Normally he didn't mind it, needing it to concentrate on his studying, but the muddled memories of his friends still whispered in his ears like ghosts. He decided to drown it out with his music, and studied further back than usual that night. In part for the solitude, in part so that he did not disturb anyone else.

An hour later, his concentration was broken by a tap on the shoulder. He paused his music and slid an earbud out, looking up to (thankfully) see a familiar face. "Pidge? What are you doing here?"

"Well, I _was_ studying with a friend, but they were tired so we ended our session early. And since I wasn't supposed to be back yet, I decided to look for some books when I saw you." Keith smiled at this, a thank you that he wanted to convey but didn't want to waste the energy on. They smiled a goofy grin in return, catching Keith's meaning. "Hey, did you want to walk back with me? We could pick up some sandwiches from one of the cafeterias on the way."

"Sure." He said, without thought. Even if he didn't want to talk, it was better to agree to these things without question, he figured. Pidge talked enough for the both of them any ways - quite literally, actually. Somehow, they always knew when he didn't have the energy to talk much. Keith gathered up his things and filed away a mental note to thank them later.

As expected, Pidge talked plenty on the way back, only prompting Keith to talk so that they could grab him the right sandwich. They both ate a little on the way, stopping briefly to throw out their trash. Pidge stopped talking at this point, and they continued on in silence.

Once back, the first thing Keith did was climb up onto the top bunk and throw himself down on it, curling up. Warmth enveloped his body as thoughts raced through his mind again and anxiety built up in his chest. He could sense it, the unspoken question between them that had developed the moment they stopped talking completely. But Pidge wasn't saying it, and he was still a little hesitant on answering it. Maybe a little scared to.

"Keith? Did something happen?" Pidge asked, voicing what Keith had been dreading to hear. "You know I don't normally pry," they said as they took out their laptop from their bag. "But you seem a little more withdrawn than usual."

"Nothing," he sighed out before catching himself. "No, wait. I mean... There were just some people that seemed to know me and I wasn't expecting it, so it just...threw me off is all. It's nothing really."

"Oh, alright." Pidge knew it was a bit more than 'nothing', but they let it be. Keith wouldn't elaborate even if they asked. "If you're sure..."

"I am." That was the last word he spoke the rest of the night. Until he had fallen asleep and dreamt about hazy figures waving at him forever, and a silence that was deafening instead of a comfort.

\--

It had been just a couple days since their run in with Keith and it was still bugging Lance, he'd been keeping himself busy with studying for finals that were in just over a week, and with regular and Keith-based basketball practice, but still his mind kept wandering to it. He was happy to have his friend nearby again, but with Keith being confused about them, it made something in Lance's stomach not settle right. He knew he was probably bothering Hunk about it with as much as he mentioned it, and he'd been useless the last couple days during study group because his mind had been wandering.

He was currently walking from his class to go get something to eat during his free period, one of the days the other three had classes during his free time. He was cold because of the couple inches of snow that had piled up, enjoying making footprints in it as he walked. It was something kind of peaceful, and he did always enjoy water it any of its forms, he couldn't go to a beach around here so playing in the snow to relax was fun. He shrugged and talked to himself for a minute, "Might as well," he smiled before he sat down in the snow and started making a miniature snowman. He was having fun putting it together when he caught a glimpse of black out the corner of his eye, making him stop in his tracks.

"Ah?" he thought for a minute before calling out to him because why not, he was only a few yards away, "Hey, Keith! Over here!"

This made Keith pause, heaving out great puffs of breath. Swear glimmers on his brow as he looks around for the source of the disturbance, obviously startled and eyes a little unfocused. When he finally rests his gaze on Lance, his light olive complexion pales some and his eyebrows furrow. He hesitates; what did he do? He still hadn't figured it out from before. Keith sighs and his eyes flicker before he clamps down his expression, rendering it unreadable, and starts to head over. He'd just run on auto-pilot for now. That was what was easiest. "Hey, what did you want...uh....Lance, was it?"

Lance stared for a moment as he actually looked at Keith. He hadn't noticed at first that Keith's hair was up in a small ponytail, and okay, totally objectively of course, but Keith pulled that off...rather well... Lance blinked when he realized Keith had spoken and he'd just been staring, not answering. "Right! Yeah, hi! Ah, nothing much? I was just building a snowman during my free period," he explained as he pointed to his tiny snowman, "And I happened to see you running by so I thought I'd say hello. I know its a few days still until the game, but it felt rude to not speak."

"Why exactly is that rude?" Actually, he felt that interrupting his routine was rude. But he didn't voice it. "Anyways...you like building snowmen?" He stared at Lance's fairly average craftsman ship, tugging at his jacket sleeve. "It's...kinda small."

"I'm not exactly sure why actually...but it just seemed like it would be rude to pretend I didn't' see you I guess?" Lance questioned, Keith or himself he wasn't sure. He looked to the snowman, "Yeah...well we won't get a huge amount of snow, so this little bit I didn't want to take all the fun from everyone....and it’s less sad if some jerk knocks it over on purpose I guess. Plus it's small but it's cute! I need to find something for its nose though, but it's still cool without it."

That was...weirdly kind. Something tugged at the back of Keith's mind—it must have flickered across his expression too—before he pushed it away and sat down. He rummaged through his hoodie's pocket, pulling out a small button. "I think, usually, you use something like a carrot and use buttons for eyes but...well, this is all I got."

Lance blinked at the button for a second, before a smile spread across his face, "No way man! This is perfect for this little guy! Thank you!" His smile and eyes were both shining as he took it and placed it on his little snowman. "Tada! It's great isn't it? Thanks Keith! Now I definitely need to take pictures of it!"

Keith didn't reply. All he could do was stare at Lance's shimmering eyes, a watery blue so familiar that they threaten to pull him in. His ungloved hand clenched at the ground, snow and frozen grass squeezed between his fingers. "Your eyes look like his..." is what slips out instead of an appropriate response. He searches the rest of Lance's face, but he couldn't put the rest of it to the teenager he once knew. Why did his eyes match?

Lance stared at him for moment, pausing in snapping pics of the snowman, "Huh? My eyes look like whose?" he asked slowly, looking at Keith curiously. Then his eyes widened, "Oh...oh! You remembered something about me then...?" He was speaking cautiously to not scare him, but he couldn't help but smile. "That's...that's a good place to start then, huh? My mom says eyes are an important part of understanding someone, or something like that worded in wise older adult talk."

"Eyes are just eyes," is what he mumbles, instead of the myriad of other replies circling in his head. But that's not exactly true, and he has to agree with Lance's statement somewhat. "Why are yours like his?" Remember Lance's? "Maybe you..." But he stops himself, doesn't let himself entertain the thought. "Maybe I should go." He pushed himself off the ground. Did he even want to go?

"I...well if you have a class or something I get it, but I have like thirty minutes left before my next classes, so if you want then you can stay and help me make another of these little guys or something?" Lance wasn't sure why but he didn't feel like he could just let Keith wander off yet. Even if Keith wasn't remembering him fully, Lance was still happy that he was here and talking together.

Keith's eyes flicked from the small snowman to Lance's face. He was tempted to lie and say he had a class, but really he didn't. Most of his classes had given him them the week off to study for their finals. The only one that hadn't was his art class, and he had that earlier that day. "Yeah, sure I guess." It was a little annoying that his routine was being further ruined, but somehow he didn't mind it as much with Lance. "But I'm not going to help you make another one. I'll make my own."

Lance's face lit up as he kneeled by it again, "Alright, cool. Then I'll make another one right?" he suggested as he started gathering snow, "But no stealing from my designs, if we're making separate ones then we need to be creative on our own or something? Oh...but you're an artist, so I'm sure you don't need it. Though painting and snowmen are very different." he suddenly became aware of his slight rambling. "Uh, anyway..." he grinned, “bet mine will look cooler though, since I've already been practicing today."

"Really?" An old flame sparks in Keith's chest, only small and a little dim. "We'll have to see about that." He starts gathering up the snow, but pauses for a moment when the cold bites at his hands. "Wait. You wouldn't have any spare gloves, would you?" He'd do this bare-handed, but this was worth a shot anyways.

Lance paused also, "Um, let me check, I think I have exercise gloves, use them during practice to not mess up my hands," he explained as he dug through his bag. "They aren't as warm as these but they'll help prevent your hands from freezing off at least," he smiled as he handed them over. "Plus this'll make it a bit fairer for you, and maybe you'll make a better one then Icey over there. Unlikely though."

Keith smiled and took the gloves, "Really? That won't be too hard. I can make a way better snowman than Icey, any day. With or without gloves," though of course he'd use them. "I bet you can't make a better snowman than me."

"Excuse you?" Lance asked with mock offense. "Just you wait Keith, everyone is going to come from around campus to celebrate how cute this snowman is going to be!" He declared as he sat back down and started concentrating on building it.

"Oh yeah, sure." Keith replied in turn, voice dripping with sarcasm now. "Just like how I only won bronze and Suzy Ellens won gold at the art show."

Lance rolled his eyes as he continued making his snowman, "Sure, think what you want, but I already have plans for this little guy! So big you won't believe it!"

"It doesn't matter what your plans are if your execution's off," Keith shot back playfully, slipping the gloves on and starting to make his snowman. "Besides, I bet my idea will be better."

"Just you wait, Keith," Lance smiled as he started building, grabbing random things from his bag to make the face. He was deep in concentration as he worked. He may have chuckled along to his own ideas when he thought of something stupid but it would look cool. He glanced a few times over at Keith, but since his back was aimed toward him to hide his own creation, all Lance could see was his back and the ponytail again. He frowned because how could he make sure he won if he had no hints! Totally not fair in his opinion, oh well he'd still win, so it didn't matter.

Keith, on his part, started to ignore Lance. Not quite on purpose, but he was basically tunnel-visioning now, hyper-focused on not only the snowman itself but on winning as well. He shoveled up snow, broke off pieces of ice hanging off of a nearby bench, dug for sticks, and started carving into the snow once his base was done. Somehow, competing like this reminded him of his time competing against his friends in basketball. The light-hearted "arguments" and debates on who was better, the bets they made, mini competitions, and trying to one up each other on the court... Keith paused and brushed a loose strand of hair from his eyes. It was different now. Even if they really were his friends, he wasn't playing basketball anymore. There would be no more competitions, no more debates... Keith smiled softly and started shoveling for more snow. But that didn't matter too much. At least he would have found them.

Lance grinned as he formed a snowball around a pair of ear buds, the cord hidden inside, the ear buds themselves as eyes and the plus sticking out for a nose. He had the idea for the nose and went with it, because there was no way he could ask the competition for another button. He looked it over trying to find something for the mouth, "Aha!" he muttered to himself as he dug in his school bag for the pack of gum he had, tossing the gum in his mouth, using the foil to form the snowman's. There was no way Keith would be that creative, artist or not, because this was pure Lance awesomeness at work.

He added a few more details before standing up and looking at it with a bright smiled, "Perfect! Take a look at this when you're done Keith! My best yet, sorry Icey!"

"Sorry Lance. I think I got you beat." Keith backs away and stands up, turning around. "Ready for the reveal?"

"Oh you bet I am!" Lance smiled, stepping to the side of his snowman hands aiming towards it like a game show assistant. "Meet Techy! Icey's futuristic part metal and plastic cousin!" Sure, he didn't have to come up with a backstory for it, but hey why not, it added to the effect. "Bet you can't have done better, check out his eyes! Best idea for a snowman I've ever had if I think about it!"

Keith couldn't help but smile at Lance's somewhat clever and equally adorable design. Metal arms, plastic eyes. "Cute, and I hate to tell you this Lance, but it's definitely not going to be the winner here." Except—and he glanced back at this point—did his count? They didn't really expand on the rules or anything here. Did it have to be a snowman in particular? Or could he get away with this? "Take a look at this." He stepped to the side, revealing a very small turtle. "You really shouldn't have challenged someone who took sculpting one year."

Lance stared at Keith's design, it was... _how had he made such a perfect little turtle that fast?!_ That just wasn't fair, it was too cute...but not a snowman so, like, to be fair Lance thought on calling him on it.  He frowned as he glanced between Keith, who looked super proud of himself. And Lance would admit that made Keith look cute, objectively, as in the ‘Lance being very aware of when guys were cute’ way of course....yeah... "I...well...that turtle is really cute, I'll give you that," he paused then thought of an idea. "I know, how about we just call it a tie? Mine is the cutest snowman, but your turtle I will admit is the cuter of the two. So a tie is best, right?" He stood in front of the three snowman kneeling and pulling out his phone, "Come on, take a selfie with me and the snowmen! I've got to show Hunk how awesome these turned out!"

"Cute?" Wait. Keith blinked as he tried to catch up with Lance. "Wait hold on—" Though maybe a tie was fair. But a selfie? "Ah..." He wasn't really...a selfie person. And at the mention of Hunk—the other person?—his fingers curled in. "A-alright." He stepped over and knelt down by his....what could he call Lance right now? Acquaintance? Certainly not a friend. And rival—No. That one was reserved.

At Lance's prompting—and eyes that bore into him, watching him but unable to read exactly what they wanted—he was brought out of his thoughts and smiled. They took a few pictures, a few flashes, and as the time went on Keith found himself feeling less stiff around the other student. But it was still odd, and nothing could change the strain in his smile, or the doubt that lingered on in the back of his mind. It didn't matter if they had a hundred more snowman contests, it didn't matter if they continued to compete or hung out. Until that one basketball game... Until he could verify that he knew them or not... He couldn't get close to them.

Once they were done with their selfies, Keith stood up and bid Lance a goodbye. But nothing could change the shivering breath in his lungs, or the feeling of surrealness that just wouldn't leave him. A ghost of a memory, of many memories, that wouldn't leave him. But it didn't matter. That would be over soon. Either he knew them, or he didn't. And that was that. Belatedly, he remembered the gloves that were still on his hands. He slipped them off. This was going to be an interesting story to tell Pidge.

But he still couldn't brush the feeling of familiarity as he walked away, clutching the gloves in his hands.

\---

"Okay! So yes I know I started this last night and you're probably tired of hearing it," Lance prefaced what he wanted to say as he started walking around, "however, I think I need to explain this more, because I don't get it." He held out his phone, showing Hunk the pictures from snowman building. He knew he was bugging the crap out of his friend with this, but he needed to know. "Just, it felt like when playing with him again! Competing and having fun, it was great Hunk. And look at how different he looks in that ponytail! Did I mention this last night? I think I really do need to if I didn't, because for some reason I'm really focusing on this too much."

He stopped talking and looked at the picture again, "Right so anyway, it was so cool Hunk, just like back then, and he was enjoying it also, but look at the picture Hunk! It feels like...well it feels like he doesn't seem as happy in the picture as he seemed in real life. Like do you see that, or any I seeing things?"

"Hmm..." Hunk took the phone and studied the picture carefully. "I don't know man. There could be a lot of reasons why he looks like that. Maybe he just doesn't like taking pictures?" Did they ever take pictures with him when they were younger? He couldn't remember any time when they did. "He could also be weirded out. If he doesn't really remember us, then this has got to be weird. Especially if he was just like...enjoying it too. Not gonna lie." Hunk handed back the phone in exchange for the bag of chips that were on his bed. "If I were in his place, I'd find it really weird too. Maybe even creepy. Like this dude and his friend came up to me and announced that we were friends, but I didn't recognize him. And now I'm playing in the snow with him and it’s really fun but I still think he could be lying to me. Like isn't that weird? Wouldn't it be weird?" He took a handful of chips, "He's gotta be thinking, 'Oh this was fun but it's still kinda weird' or something."

Lance frowned as he glanced at the picture, "Yeah... I mean I know that's part of it, but just," he sighed and shook his head, "It felt so familiar on my end. I guess it just made it seem odder that he _doesn't_ remember us." He looked at the picture some more, suddenly remembering the ponytail, "Also maybe it was because he was cold? Like he had his hair tied up because he was running? So I'm thinking maybe he was cold, I mean I could see a lot of his neck. I wasn't focusing on it or anything but it's true." Lance stopped walking around the room, plopping down beside Hunk and grabbing a handful of chips, "I'm glad we have study group with Pidge and Shay, otherwise this match being after finales...I'd bomb my tests from worry, I know it."

"Well...it could be that it felt weirder to him too that he didn't remember either. If he was really enjoying it as much as you say, then he might have felt the same way." Hunk raised his eyebrow at Lance but didn't comment on the in-depth description on Keith's ponytail. Really, it spoke for itself. "He could have been. But yeah... I've gotta agree with you there. I'm worried too."

Lance nodded, closing his photo app before putting his phone down, "Yeah, you're right. I'm positive though that the game will make him remember, if not we may not get another chance until after winter break." He glanced to Hunk with a small but cautious smile, "I-I'm sure it'll work out though, he said he'd remember us from how we play, and I know there were a lot of times it felt just like us three on the court even if surrounded by others... I'm positive it's going to be fine!"

"I hope so." Hunk's chest clenched and he looked down, couldn't meet his friend's eyes. "Lance, I hate to break it to you but.... I think this is our _only_ chance. Maybe it's just how I'd feel but....I feel like maybe he'd be too scared or weirded out to talk to us if this doesn't make him remember." He shifted nervously, causing the bed to creak under his weight. "I just... If it were me, and I couldn't recognize us by a huge thing that tied us together then... Well..." He bit his lip. "Not just that but didn't he say that this was his way of finding out if we were lying? I...I don't think he'll trust us enough to go along with this again if the first time doesn't work." Maybe he was just over thinking it, maybe it was the nerves that he couldn't quite soothe and the funny breathing in his airways, or the way the thoughts and memories rocked him, but he just had a feeling.... And he couldn't shake it off.

 

Lance sighed, "I know you're probably right about him not wanting to, but...I won't be pushy about it, but I'll work until I can find something, I'm sure somewhere back home, someone in one of our families has a picture of us in the background all together or something." Honestly he wasn't completely sure of that, but he was trying to think of any alternative. He stood up and walked over to his bed, laying down in defeat, "We can't lose him Hunk, he's our friend and we just found him again..."

Hunk shifted, enough to let Lance lay down with ample space. "Okay." He curled his fingers before resting it on one of his friend's legs. "I'll try to help. I might have a picture somewhere. You know how my mom is."

Lance nodded, frowning, "Thanks buddy, just a few more exams and days and we'll know what else needs to be done..."

 "Yeah..." Just a few more days, and then they'll see.

\---

 Keith struggles with his flipped up collar as he makes his way to the cafeteria, the inside of the cloth continuing to chafe against his neck and hitting his face. As of late he had been messing up with his laundry - normally he was efficient at it, but recently he had been shrinking clothes or, worse, ripping them at some point during the process. His favorite alien shirt, the one he had gotten as a child but had been too big for him, was his latest victim. It had shrunken slightly, and had ripped when it got caught in the door. He hadn't wanted to get rid of it, so he had cut past where it had ripped to create a sort of 'crop-top'. He didn't wear it out, but sometimes he indulged himself and wore it to bed. And it looked like, today, his jacket was a victim as well, shrinking just enough that the collar was an issue and the sleeves pinched him at the elbows whenever he flexed. How annoying.

 As he passes a trashcan, Keith strips off the jacket—leaving himself in only a gray t-shirt—and makes to throw it in the trash, only hesitating a moment when he remembered who had gifted it to him. ...It didn't matter now, it was useless to him if he couldn't wear it. So he tossed it and walked away without looking back.

 "Hey! Why are you throwing away your jacket?"

 Freezing, he silently cursed as he recognized the voice. Hunk. He sighed. It wasn't as if he hated either of them, but he was definitely not in the mood today to deal with either of them. He turned, and was immediately met with the sight of Lance too, although Hunk was the one holding the jacket. Keith pinched the bridge of his nose, "Because it's too small. Look, I have to go grab some lunch before my art final, so I really don't have time to talk to you two today. If you want the jacket, you can keep it, I don't care. But I've got to go. Goodbye." Of course it was only half of the truth. He did have to hurry to lunch and he did have an art final, but it wasn't for a few more hours.

When he turned away, he noticed the two glance over at each other and he inwardly sighed. It wasn't going to be so easy though, was it? "Well, why don't we join you then? We haven't had lunch yet either, right Lance?"

Lance nodded, smiling slightly, "I mean if it's not too much trouble, we're heading that way pretty much anyway." He was a bit nervous, still confused from when they had planned in the snow earlier in the week. "Um, I mean it can't hurt to sit together, think of it as a pre-game meal of peace between the two 'teams'?" He was aware of how out there that sounded...but if everything went wrong at the game, this could be one of their last chances.

 As Keith turned around, emotions flickered in his eyes, but they were unreadable and even he couldn't figure out exactly what they were yet. He dug his fingers into his palms, knowing he'd leave behind crescent shapes like the moon, and let out the air he didn't know he had been holding. "Fine. Sure." There was still the uncertainty of what they wanted in the event that they weren't his friends from long ago, but could a meal really do any harm?  It was just sitting and eating. Maybe silence. He preferred if it was silent, but maybe that was too much to ask when it was Lance and Hunk. They always seemed so loud, the opposite of his roommate. And yet...

 Keith grunted and was pulled out of his thoughts as Hunk patted his back. He staggered a little. "Thanks, buddy."

Lance perked up a little, starting to walk, "Let’s go then, besides you've got to be getting cold, with your jacket off."  He pointed to the jacket, "You may at least want it over your shoulders until you get there, it's even colder than when we were playing in the snow." Honestly he really just wanted to make sure that Keith was okay and wasn't getting sick, but he really didn't want him to think he was being to clingy about it all.

 He scowled a bit, not at anyone or anything in particular even though his gaze was directed at the coat. As it turned out, he ended up in the middle of the two of them as they walked, which was making him feel a little crowded. How annoying. "I'm fine." He took the coat anyways, but didn't slip it on. Just feeling the soft cloth against the pads of his exposed fingers. "It's not going to do much over my shoulders, and, like I said, it's too small." Though he wished it wasn't. It had been a gift from Shiro. "Which is why I said you guys could have it if you weren't going to let me throw it out. It's useless."

 "We could stretch it out," Hunk suggested, noticing the gentle way he held the coat. "There's probably some way to do that. I-if it wasn't too small before anyway and it just shrunk or something."

 "Won't work. It's the collar and the arms that's the issue." What was the point of even trying it anyways? "I'll just save up and buy a new one. It's not really an issue."

"Well, if you're sure, but I'm positive I could call my mom and she'd be able to tell me some way to help you fix it, or something?" Lance suggested, "But in the meantime, let’s get lunch and pretend that finals don't exist for a few minutes, because I'm going to be really glad when they don't."

Keith blanches, because truly this is an offer that seemed totally out of left field and unneeded. But also, to go that far? For a stranger over a piece of clothing? "No. It's fine. It's just a jacket." Except it wasn't, and he inwardly cringed at the lie. It wasn't just a jacket, because it had been gifted to him by Shiro. "No it's—" He was too crowded now. Stopping in his snowy tracks to gather himself and his thoughts, he steeled himself with anger. Why should they know? What right did they have to ask for a look into his private life when he didn't even know them? Except they weren't, and yet he didn't know how to deal with this. A hurricane battered him from within and he couldn't stop it. So he ensnared it in the annoyance that was the easiest to process. "Look. Just forget about the jacket. Let's just eat lunch like you said." He mutters something along the lines of forgetting the conversation while they were at it as he pushed passed them and their burning stares. He didn't know where it came from, but something had shifted under him and he just couldn't get the right footing. Perhaps due to the interruption of his schedule again, but then it wasn't really a change. Unless that routine had included being alone. He doesn't allow himself the time to dwell on such a thought as he turns towards the two rooted in their places. "Come on, we should hurry if we want a good table."

Hunk looked over at Lance and attempted to speak but found himself at a loss for words at the 180 his old friend seemed to have done. "Was it something we said?" He whispered to Lance as he started walking along again.

Lance shook his head and shrugged, "I've got no clue man. Remind me to ask him again after the basketball game though? He might be...more open to it then?" Maybe it was that they were being too excited about everything and scaring him, Lance really didn't know, but it did worry him if it was a bad sign for when they'd play together. "For now, let’s just follow him, and be happy he didn't make us leave?" he suggested, because really that had to be a good sign for something. When they reached the line with Keith, Lance was a bit nervous of what to say, so he stuck to something simple, well he hoped it was simple, "So um, my team has promised to give us three time on the court alone when we play, I didn't explain the details of it, just a match between former school rivals is all they know, can't promise they won't be wandering around nearby or something, but we shouldn't be interrupted, so that's fine, right?"

"Yeah." Hunk nodded and followed Lance a little hesitantly. He really didn't want to anger Keith further, if he was even angry at them.

"Yeah, sounds good." A little dismissive. He really didn't meant it, but he couldn't right himself today. "Sorry. It's not you," he murmurs. It's not entirely true, but it's close enough to the truth that it didn't feel bad saying it. "So you're on the team?"

"Yeah, I decided to continue on playing, we're pretty good actually, though college level of competition is higher, but that's fine." Lance explained. "Would have liked one of you two to play with or against, it's cool though. You were clearly meant for this art stuff, and Hunk here has a knack for his future career."

Keith swallowed and fussed with his jacket, "Basketball was never a..." The words faded, dying on his lips. "Right. And what are you planning on doing Hunk?"

"Psychologist. It's...uh...complicated." He rubbed the back of his head, "I was thinking of joining the team again too, but I...got nervous and backed out last minute."

Lance looked confused for a second at Keith's cutting himself off, but figured it was just something he wanted to hold off on while still unsure of them, "The coach would probably still consider him if he changed his mind," Land added, pointing that the line was moving a bit. "Still, it's cool that the three of us all ended up here, I know you're weary of it and that's cool, but it makes me happy in a way."

"Lance, you know I'm out of practice."

"It'll...make me happy too." Keith looked away as he stepped forward. "If you end up being them, I mean."

"You'll do fine when we play just us though Hunk, don't worry," Lance reassured him before turning to Keith with a smile, "Just you wait, my skills will be easy to remember. Besides, I'm stubborn, but I wouldn't be so stubborn that I kept this up so long if it wasn't true."

Keith didn’t say anything, but to Hunk he could see a bit of softness, of thoughtfulness, on his expression. It lingered even as they finally managed to enter into the cafeteria building and when they grabbed their trays. "Right." He finally said, slowly, and as he picked out the chili for lunch. "Well no matter who you are, I'm not going to lose that match."

Lance smirked as he grabbed his own tray and started getting food, glancing to Hunk for a second then back to Keith, "Just you wait, I've got a few new tricks up my sleeve that'll make you think 'Wow! Lance, I remember you now! When did you get so much cooler? Teach me your ways!'  But don't worry, I will show you all of my skills!"

"Yeah! Same with—Same with me." Hunk said, confidence faltering just slightly.

Keith just rolled his eyes. "Like that'll happen. I'm not one to beg, but I bet you will be when I win."

"Oh no," Lance shook his head, "We're going to win, and when you remember us, you're going to remember that there was no chance you could beat me, who is college team level now!" he teased as he sat at their table.

"Like that's going to mean anything when the time comes," Keith retorted.

Hunk couldn't help but smile at them. At least their competitive spirit was still there.

"Did you hear that Hunk? He thinks he can beat our team up," Lance spoke with feigned shock. "You're really good Keith, we won't deny that, but come the day of the game, you'll see we've still got it!"

Keith rolled his eyes, but smiled and shot back another retort. This goes on for the rest of their lunch, juggling between playful banter and relaxed conversation, Hunk only detecting a twinge of hesitance whenever the topic of private life came up. But sometimes, something either of them would say would spark an edge in Keith's tone and a flash in his eyes. They didn't dare to continue the topic when this occurred. By the end of lunch, their conversation faded out into the noise of the dispersing crowd and, with a goodbye and a promise to see each other at the match, they parted. Neither Lance nor Hunk noticed Keith's smile or his balling fists as they turned and walked away.

\---

"You seem agitated today."

 Pidge reclined in their large computer chair (much too large for their short body at least) and swiveled around to take a good luck at Keith as he trudged into their room with the slam of the door. Less secure sketches rustled against the wall, threatening to tear out from their tacks. Keith didn't seem to care about this, instead throwing his bag against the wall and throwing himself onto Pidge's bed.

"Lay off Pidge," he bit back. Immediately he regretted it, Pidge was just worried about him after all, but he didn't say anything. At this point an apology just wouldn't come forth; probably huddled up in the furthermost edges of his mind. Just out of reach.

"Wow. Alright." They turned back around, grumbling. "What's your problem? I just wanted to know what the issue was. Also could you get off my bed if you're going to be snappy with me?"

Keith aimed a glare at Pidge, just barely peaking up from the blanket, before sighing and sliding off the bed. He knew that Pidge had a point. If he was going to snap at them, then he really shouldn't be on their bed, especially since they just wanted to help, but still... Everything today was grating on him.

"It's not you." He finally managed after climbing up onto his own bed, words muffled as he lay down face first. "You know those two guys I keep running into?"

"...Yeah? Where are you going with this exactly?"

He balled his fists, clenching the pillow underneath him. It was taut, and he was tempted to rip it apart. But he did not, the desire to not anger and disappoint the people whom have been taking care of him by destroying their property greater than his anger. Misdirected anger, he reminded himself sternly. "Well that's the issue, isn't it? I keep running into them!"

Pidge blinked; once, twice, until it dawned on them what the issue really was. "It's because they keep fucking with your routine, isn't it?"

"Language, Pidge." He reprimanded them, half-heartedly, as he really didn't want to get in trouble with their older sibling if this somehow got back to them, but also not quite caring about the swearing either. "But yeah. And there's nothing I can do about it without changing my routine. Or ignore them and try to continue on anyways and not care about looking rude." He turned around, onto his back now, and pressed his arms against his forehead and over his eyes. "It's not even that I... It's not that I don't like hanging out with them. But, well, you know how it is." Ruining his routine just... It left him off-kilter, and he couldn't seem to regain himself afterwards. "But I guess that makes it worse. I like hanging out with them. But I don't know if they're lying yet, and until I know I'm not going to just go tell random fucking strangers private information about myself."

"Language." Pidge said, lightheartedly, perhaps even in hopes of cheering up their friend. "I get what you're talking about though. Honestly, you can do this Keith. It's just a few more days. You've said you started remembering your old friends' faces, right? Well, maybe that means they really were your friends? Then you can tell them all about this, and you can work out what to do."

Complete silence, not even a rustle from Keith's bed as he turned away, fiercely rubbing at his eyes now. They burned from unshed tears, tears born of frustration and feelings he couldn't untangle. "I hope you're right, Pidge," he said heavily. "I...I hope you're right."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, Flo here! One more chapter after this and then that'll conclude of the first arc of Memory Rebound! We're not going to mark this story as complete, as it would render some of our tags a moot point, so we'll continue to update this fanfic here. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and stick around for the conclusion of the upcoming basketball game!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game finally arrives, will the game work and bring back Keith's memories? Or will it leave them more confused then before?

"Alright, Hunk, today is the day! We're going play Keith -- totally going to win of course -- and then he'll remember us!" Lance boasted as he stretched his muscles while walking toward the gym. Okay, so he was aware that was the best case scenario, but right now he really didn't want to think too much on the other options. "We know how he plays, and I'm sure by the time we start playing, how we work will come back to him. I mean his art shows that he knows that much right?"

"Yeah, totally." Hunk leans down and stretches, one hand touching the tip of his toes with a slight huff of surprise that he was still this flexible. "Think he’s still as good as he used to be?"

"Well, it's been since last spring that he played, so he'll probably be a little rusty, but I bet by back end of game that he'll be against us back like in school." Lance smiled. "We have the advantage though since I'm playing on the team here and you played with me all summer; we've got this man!"

"Don't be so sure." The challenging voice echoed and caused Hunk to jump before he realized who exactly it was. Keith stood facing them, hands crossed over a red varsity jacket with sleeves black and leathery with a felted double zero poking out from behind the fabric. The edges were trimmed with gold and his cuffs white.

"Is that...?" Hunk sort of recognized it, but it had been awhile that the details had been muddled in his mind.

"'Is that' what?"

Lance stared for a minute, noticing what Hunk had, "Dude! That's awesome; he means if that's your old jacket." He smirked, "Oh, I see you're wearing it to intimidate us aren't you? Well don't count on it, buddy, we're got this all planned out," he teased a bit to rile him up for the match.

"No, I don't need a jacket to be intimidating." He grinned now, a brilliant, teasing, half-smile that they hadn't seen in a long time. "Hell, I don't need to intimidate you period. I'll be winning no matter what."

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Lance grinned, leaning against the wall of the gym. "I've been playing with college teams, and Hunk's been playing me on days we can hang out. When we hit the court, you're going to see we're still as great as high school, maybe even better."

"Right," Keith rolled his eyes. "And _I'm_ an alien."

"Well get ready to reveal your alien genes cause there is no way we are losing this one!"

"Ha, bring it E.T.!" Lance smirked as he got a ball from the courts storage bin. "Come on Hunk; let's show him what we've got!"

"Ha ha, real clever."

As Lance grabbed the ball, they positioned themselves. Hunk stood near the basket with Keith in front and facing away from him. Lance circled around them to face Keith, passing the ball and dribbling it between them before finally letting Keith have it. The ball bounced and tapped against the ground rhythmically and it's dribbler looked around, obviously formulating a plan but perhaps doubtful of its success rate. But then, from Keith's perspective, he lunged left, Lance lunging in the same direction to block-- But then he backed away and spun, keeping his motion fluid as he faked out and headed in the opposite direction. Keith jumped and shot, just a mere inch shy from Hunk whom was still recovering from watching the earlier fake out. The ball hit the backboard with a thud, and then fell square into the hoop with a swish.

"You were saying?" He said with a raised eyebrow, the ball now spinning on his pointer finger.

Lance stared, mouth opened, "I... I... Okay so maybe we didn't take this seriously at first." He turned to Hunk, nodding, "We'll bring this back; follow my movements and you'll get what I'm planning."

"Okay, okay." Hadn't Keith been out of practice? "Watch out Keith, we're gonna get the point this time!"

Keith just shrugged and tossed Lance the ball, "Right. We'll have to see about that."

Lance grinned as he started dribbling. He glanced to Hunk, nodding again, and started moving forward. He didn't want to pull a fake out right after Keith had, plus this was a play he and Hunk had used in high school, so hopefully it would help jog Keith's memory a bit. He ran forward, moving side to side a bit so Keith wouldn't be exactly sure where he was going. When he got close, Keith moved forward trying to get the ball away. Lance moved a couple steps back in response (making sure Hunk was in place), then made like he was going to try to get a basket from there. Keith moved to try to block it, not noticed Lance was aiming for Hunk instead. Hunk, after catching it, smiled and dribbled it closer to the basket before sinking it in.

"Hell yeah!" Lance cheered, pumping his fist in the air, "I knew we'd get this point!"

Keith rolled his eyes, but this time doesn't shoot a retort back as he's given the ball again. Hunk feels like laughing at this, but decides against it in favor of getting into his own position. They hadn't really hadn't set down any rules, quite by accident, and yet somehow they had found themselves giving Keith the chance to start first every time. If this had been a warm up, and they were all still on their teams, the coaches would probably have been disappointed in them.

Hunk is drawn out of his thoughts as Keith starts dribbling again, but doesn't let himself get distracted by him. Instead he stares at Lance, watching his movements, watching the way his eyes follow Keith.... Until then there's a flicker, but Keith was moving the opposite way Lance's eyes had pointed, and suddenly Keith was spinning around again, another fake like before. Except now he was face to face with Hunk.

His eyes darted from side to side, but they both knew his only way was right.

They both lunged at the same time, the pads of Hunk's fingers knocking the ball out of Keith's outstretched hand, and into Lance's. Pride swelled up in his chest, and he watched as Lance jumped into action and headed into empty court. Keith spun around again, but it was too late as Lance skyrocketed upwards and the ball launched from his hands and into the net with a clean shot.

"Alright!" Hunk cheers, high-fiving his team member so hard it left the skin of his hand stinging.

"You guys only got that 'cause you finally learned the first time. But next round _I'll_ be the one scoring." Keith taunted through raspy breaths.

Lance grinned, shrugging, "We won't be tricked by that play twice either, ya know!" He laughed as he tosses the ball back and forth between his hands. "We’re prepared for all your tricks; we know you wouldn’t pull the same _exact_ move!" he declared as he tossed the ball to Keith, "We'll figure out your play this time."

Lance may or may not have purposefully ignored the grin of confidence he saw on Keith's face as the three of them all got back into their positions. Lance pointed to Hunk in the direction he wanted Hunk to take when Keith started moving, readying himself when the agreement passed between them. He kept his eyes on Keith and the ball, and started to move time he saw Keith started to move. But he quickly paused when he saw Keith spun around and his arms went up.   
  
_Wait what?!_  
  
Lance blinked as he watched Keith jump up, completely not watching the movement of his back that he'd been aware of since Keith had removed his jacket. There was no way Keith was doing what he thought, but he was, he totally was! Keith was trying to score from there, over Hunk! Lance watched as Keith landed on the ground, his ponytail resting on his back the same moment the ball hit the backboard and fell through the middle of the hoop. 

Lance just stared in open-mouth-shock, glancing between the hoop, Hunk (who was also confused), and Keith. "What?! I! Oh my God, that was-- That... You can't--" He really didn't know what to say, like not fair that Keith got the point so easy, but he was also honestly entranced by that sneaky play and it’s successful execution.

Keith shrugs, grins, and turns only to stick out his tongue. It was sort of childish, but somehow was a natural progression in their banter. "Hey, you never specified that I couldn't do that."

Behind Keith, Hunk sputters, trying to come up with a comeback but ultimately failing. Technically, Keith was correct. They hadn't made a rule against it.

Lance frowned; because who told Keith he could make that expression? It was a distraction. That had to be it right? But crap, he had a point about the rules. Lance turned to Hunk, "Guess it does count then huh?"

"I-I guess. I mean we never really did specify, did we? Then again we really should uh.." He rubbed the back of his head, "We really should specify the rules in general actually. Coach Anderson would have a fit if he saw us now."

"Alright," he tosses Lance the ball. "Then how about this; you start the next round, and every round after that the person who scores gets to start off with the ball?"

"I mean that sounds reasonable... But why are you giving us the ball now?"

"So that you two can play at catch up." He smirks, it irritatingly smug, and yet somehow playful all at once.

Lance frowned again, because seriously? Keith had to stop being so confident, it made him seem way to cool. "Fine then, we'll take it to even us out."

When they all got into positions again, Lance started dribbling, stepping side to side, before moving right like he did before, but Keith was quick to catch on to his move. When Lance tossed it to Hunk, Keith was only a second too late to get it, both of them turning and ready to move. When Lance was sure Hunk caught the ball, he ran to the left ready to 'catch' it where Hunk was dribbling the ball in the same direction, or so he was glad it seemed Keith had been led to believe when he ran to block Lance. Lance grinned, winking at Keith before tilting his head to get Keith to look at Hunk who had turned last minute and headed for the basket. Lance cheered on his friend as he jumped up right at the basketball goal, getting them a slam dunk.

"We see your long shot and raise you one of our best plays!" Lance cheered, walking over and patting Hunk on the back, "Great job buddy!"

"Yeah, how do you like that?" He pulls Lance into a quick side-hug while smiling with his cocky, open-mouthed smirk of his. A taunt.

Keith just shakes his head, the smile gone from his own expression now. His eyes lit up with a fire that radiated with determination, and every word that was said was like kerosene; stoking those flames so that they threatened to engulfed them. "How did I like that? Well, let's just say that I won't be letting you guys score again from here on out. Does that answer your question?"

Lance couldn't help but smile when he saw the spark, now that was the guy from high school he remembered. He looked up at Hunk and grinned, "You hear that Hunk? We've got to play even harder now, he's coming for us!" He laughed and looked at Keith, "This next point we start with the ball again. Sure you can get the point?"

"Oh I'm sure. Actually," Keith crossed his arms, his head tilted up slightly while he maintained his intense stare. "Why don't we make a bet? If I can get three points in a row, I win."

Lance crossed his arms, looking Keith up and down, smirking, "Well, if Hunk agrees, I'm all for it, because there is no way you can do that. You're a good player, but so are we. But hey, if you're that confident my cocky mullet friend, bring it."

Keith just raises and eyebrow and looks over at Hunk, who crosses his arms and widely grins. "Yeah, well, you can try but I doubt you can beat us all by yourself. We were an unstoppable team back in the day, you know. Hunk and Lance, the Rock and the Tailor."

His expression screws up at this, a glimmer of confusion passing through and fading to leave a ghost of doubt. "What? When did they ever--?" But he doesn't continue the question and just turns away instead. "Right, well even if they do I'll win any ways."

Hunk looks over at Lance but doesn't reply as they get into positions. Maybe he was remembering? It was a faint hope, a kindling flame not yet nurtured into a roaring bonfire, but still it warmed his chest and clouded his head. It seemed to affect Lance as well, for he appeared distracted with his absent-minded smile and his clumsy dribbling. In turn, this affected their playing; Lance and Hunk sidestepping into mistakes and passes that ended up intercepted. In the end this ended with a point for Keith, but he didn't gloat and they didn't linger long.

Somehow they figured that the next point would be different, finally shaking off the distracting smoke laced with wispy hope and bellows of memories. But even still, the pressure was on, threatening to choke out Hunk as he and his team member silently made their plans and Keith started dribbling. Each thud of the ball counted down to Keith's first move, and he had to wonder what it would be. Just as Keith started stepping towards his right, and Hunk starting to follow, a screech of the gymnasium door caught Hunk's attention, and a familiar friend walked in. Shay smiled and waved as she caught Hunk's stares, but soon winced when he stepped back and fell when he was caught unprepared by Keith's next move. Then it was over, the squelching of Lance's shoes stopping and the swish of the basket like the sound of a tolling clock.

"Hey, you alright?" Keith obstructed Hunk's view of a guilty Shay, bringing him out of his surprised stupor.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," he responds as Keith helps pull him up.

Lance jogged over, waving at Shay before looking Hunk over, patting him on the back, "If you need to rest a minute we can, okay buddy?" He was sure Hunk was out of it, kinda like he was. Something was changing as the game went on; Keith was acting and moving in ways that seemed more familiar. Lance started talking a bit more quietly. "If not then don't worry about it, we'll get this next play and bring it back, if not I think our other goal here is..." He stopped talking at that moment, not wanting Keith to hear their whispers, but nodded to Hunk.  
  
He turned to Keith, smirking, still confident in himself and Hunk "You've gotten us these last few times there, we'll bring it back now, just you watch! You won't get this last point, at least not without a fight."

"Just try it," he retorts, but the fire is gone from Keith's voice and he frowns, watching as Hunk replies quietly to Lance. Something about it all was so familiar, familiar enough to drudge up memories he had long since forgotten. But he couldn't focus on those here, and forcing those memories back was difficult, pain pounding against his skull. How did he deal with this?

"Hey, Keith... You feeling okay? You want a break?"

Hunk's voice startles him out of his war-filled head. "I'm fine," he bristled. Why did it rub him the wrong way? Why did the question stretch out like a cavern in his head, and why had his stomach dropped as if he were on the ledge, vertigo running through him with tingling limbs and beating chest? He was just concerned.

Lance raised an eyebrow, "Alright, you do not look fine, and Hunk should rest after his fall," he pointed out, "I'm the last person to back down, so we won't stop the match, but lets all regroup, we've been playing then the couches would have allowed before a time out any way. We could all use a water break."

Keith wants to put his foot down, wants to continue right then and there, but the somewhat commanding tone of Lance's voice stopped him. It stirred up something, furthering the headache and causing him to grit his teeth. "Fine. I'm going to get some air."

He didn't pay attention to any of their stares as he pushed out of the room.

　

\---

　

Lance sighed as he sat on one of the benches, thanking Shay for the sports drinks she'd bought, he needed something more than water to get the taste of fear out of his mouth. "Man, I hope he's okay and I didn't push him too far with that." He sighed and glanced to Hunk, "But really you both needed a break, and... and after the thing he said when we mentioned nicknames, I kinda did too... something happened during the game... feels like the stakes are higher now...."

"I don't think it's you," Hunk said. "But yeah... I don't know. He's got to be remembering at this point. Maybe that's what's stressing him out?" He thanked Shay as well, taking the sport drink as well. "I don't know. It's gotta be that, right?" The bottle shook in his hands, "I think you're right about the stakes... The last few points of the game, doesn't it kind of remind you of something?"

"It does, it's reminding me of a game we played before; maybe us suddenly sucking by his shocking comment reminded him of before the coach whipped us into shape?" Lance suggested with an awkward smile. "Just, Hunk this has to work, we can't go back from this with him not knowing... I- I don't know how I-- we would handle it if he didn't."

"Yeah, I know buddy." He takes a gulp of the drink, "He's got to remember...." But really, was it possible for him not to at this point? "He's got to..."

　

\---

　

Keith breathes in and out, slowly, perhaps to settle his pounding heart, or perhaps to try and fill his lungs with the oxygen he knew he wasn't getting enough of. There was something about this. He didn't know what it was, exactly, but he felt that if he pushed himself further, he'd fall. And, quite frankly, it scared him more than he cared to admit. What was waiting down there, at the bottom of this precipice? Was it jagged rocks, ones which would pierce his body and drain the memories from him without care whether they were good or bad? Or perhaps it would be icy waters, with a jolt of cold and a landing that was equal to hitting cement? Would it be an assault of memories that he could not turn off? Or perhaps he would descend slowly, somehow; floating amongst clouds and memories that left him light-headed?

Keith shivered, not quite at the images that pulled at him, and wiped away at the unpleasant dampness of his skin due to sweat. Maybe he was getting sick. Maybe that was why he felt off? Why the nausea threatened to make him ill, why he felt that strange sense of vertigo earlier? He couldn't be sure. But it made sense. Because it absolutely had nothing to do with the fact that maybe, just maybe, he was playing against his old friends for the first time in a year and he was just now realizing it. Yup. Nothing to do with it at all.

"Keep it together, Keith," he mutters to himself, a command he must follow. But the ground was already crumbling away from beneath him, plunging him into that precipice and into murky waters below.

\---

_"Why don't you run along now Keith? I'm sure you'd be excited to make some new friends."_

_At 11 years old, Keith stared up at the woman whom was so unlike him; darker skin like rich copper, brighter eyes (blue as the sky really), silver hair. Yes, her skin was so different from his own cool beige tone, not unlike the deep color of the Sahara, and his messy black hair and cool grey eyes. Yes, definitely different. "But I don't want to." He pouted, of course he pouted. This woman wasn't his mother, she'd never be his mother, but he didn't want to leave her. He clung to the basketball in his arms. Leaving her... It wouldn't be like before._

_"Keith, it's okay. Please go play; I bet you'll make some new friends, and I know you said that you love basketball."_

_Keith frowns and holds his ball closer before deciding to listen, walking off. He loved the quiet with only forests and animals but no people, but here it was different. Forests and nature weren't empty, full of life and energy. But as he stepped into the court, all it felt to him was empty, abandoned, with cracked asphalt and bent hoops. His dribbling echoed, serving to further the feelings of isolation. But it was okay. Isolation, emptiness, wasn't new. He could push back loneliness. He had people...even if they weren't his family, or his friends. He could push that back._

_A little brown haired boy bounded over to Keith not long after seeing the boy standing there, "Hi! I'm, Lance! You've got a basketball huh? Come play with us then!" He pointed towards another boy about their age, "We're practicing to join the middle school team when it starts up! So come play with us! I bet you're pretty good!"_

_There was no answer from Keith who just stared at him, scrutinizing him. He was scrawny, and not in the same way as Keith; with thin, but long, spindly arms and legs. His friend in the back was the opposite; wide, with arms thick like a small stump. Lance didn't seem fit for **any** sport, while his friend only seem suited to football or wrestling. But then he remembered the times he had been judged on sight and nearly flinches. But he's still hesitant, unsure of what they wanted. "...Are you making fun of me?" He could take them in basketball, but if this was going to turn into a fight he wasn't sure about his odds. Lance seemed weaker than him, but he didn't know about his friend. Two on one wasn't exactly the best odds._

_Lance looked at him confused, "No? You have a basketball and we're on a basketball court! We should play." He got a mischievous look in his eyes, "Unless you think you're too good to go against us? Or do you think we'd be too good and you couldn't show off in front of the other kids here? Either way, come on! Hunk and I want to play with you!"_

_"What? No! I could beat both of you any day!" What was with this kid? "Fine. You're on, but I'm gonna win!!"_

_"Awesome, we'll see who has most points before my mom comes to pick Hunk and me up! But I still think we'll win!" Lance smiled as he started walking over to Hunk, motioning for Keith to follow, "Oh by the way, what's your name?"_

_Keith's expression blanks and he follows quietly. "Keith," he replies. "You're here alone?" His chest twinges, and he's not sure why. "Where's your mom?"_

_Lance nodded, "Sorta! She's still in the park, on the other side, but she left us a phone in case of emergency! Don't worry she's not too far, so it's safe to play!"_

_The twinging in his chest fades at that, although he was still unsure as to why it occurred in the first place. "...It was safe any ways." But the words were soft, enough so that, hopefully, Lance wouldn't hear them._

_"Lance, whose this?" The taller boy's voice was surprisingly hesitant and shaky as they approached him, and he twiddled his thumbs with nervous energy._

_"This is Keith! He had a basketball so he's going to play against us until mom comes back," Lance said proudly. "And get this! I challenged him and he thinks he could beat us! This is going to be fun!"_

_"I don't think; I know I can." They'd figure it out eventually, that they were out of his league. "You're not going to win this."_

_Lance smiled brighter, "This is going to be great! Since you've got the ball, you can go first!"_

_Keith rolls his eyes, allowing him to start first, but took it any ways and didn’t speak further. Which was just as well, even in the midst of their game—with adrenaline coursing through him—he couldn’t summon the ability to speak. Their footsteps echoed in that abandoned court, squeaking sneakers and squelching stops. The first round or so he won, of course he did (he was the one with basketball experience after all), but then they got in two points and it shocked him. He lost another point cause of it. Three to three. He wouldn’t allow this to continue. He vowed to get the next three points and win._

_Back and forth they fought. Knocking the ball away, grabbing it for themselves, then knocking it away again. At the last minute, each and every time, he managed to wrestle it away and shoot. Three points. Three rounds. They stared at him in awe and something swelled in his chest._

_"Wow." Hunk had said. "You’re amazing!"_

_"Not really. I’m average," he had managed out. And it was true, at least in this case. They were newbies. He wasn’t._

_"No way! You’re definitely way too good!" Lance said in half shock. He looked to Hunk. "Now we have to practice and get on a team so we can win next time!"_

_"Yeah!!" Owlishly, Hunk blinked as Lance’s pocket buzzed. "Dude that’s gotta be your mom!"_

_"Aww man!" Lance frowned as he checked it, seeing a text, "Yeah, Mom says she’s on her way over." He looked to Keith and smiled, "We’ll play you again one day, and we’ll be better next time!"_

_Keith deflated, the happiness and confidence he had been feeling completely gone. "…What school?" Would he be in the same school as them? Would he actually get to play with them again?_

_"School?" Hunk looks over at Lance. "Which one we’re going to? Um. Galaxy Middle."_

_"Oh." He was hollow. That school, he wasn’t going to that one. Did his team even play against them? He didn’t know._

_Lance nodded, "It’s known for being good, but it’s never beaten the top school in the area. Hunk and I plan to change that!"_

_"What school is that?" He murmured, studying a crack in the ground._

_"Gala Middle I think?" Hunk turned to Lance again. "Right?"_

_Keith’s head snaps up and emotion surges in his chest. That was his— "That’s my—" He’s shaking. Why was he shaking? "Then I definitely won’t let you guys win." It was a promise to see them—his friends, rivals?—again. Wasn’t it?_

_Lance beamed, pumping his fist in the air, "Alright! Challenge accepted, we’ll see you on the court soon." He held his hand out to Keith, "Let’s shake on it."_

_"‘Shake on-?’" He frowned, and held out his own hand, but didn’t take Lance’s hand. What were they doing?_

_"He means a promise! You shake his hand and it’s a promise." Hunk explained._

_Keith’s expression screws up more. "Like a pinky promise?"_

_Lance smiled, "Yeah, we can do it that way if you want."_

_Keith just nods and they do just that, all three of them locking pinkies one at a time. It was just after that that Hunk and Lance waved goodbye and headed out to meet Lance’s mother, leaving Keith in that empty lot. But he didn’t feel like crying. Energy swirled about him, pumping his heart and legs as he ran off to find the woman he had arrived with._

_"Keith?" She laughed gently, the child hugging her legs now. "What is it?"_

_"I made rivals!" He beamed up at her and something warm and sticky trailed down his face. "I made friends!"_

_She kneeled down and a manicured finger wiped away his tears, "I’m glad you made some friends. Why don’t you tell me all about them as we go buy some ice cream? We’ll get some for your fathers too."_

_Normally he’d protest at the usage of ‘fathers’ (for they were not his fathers, no none of these people were his family at all), but didn’t this time. He was too happy. He had made friends. He wasn’t alone. "Okay." He wouldn’t tell her everything. But he’d tell her about how he won. And he’d tell her how happy it made him._

　

\---

　

Oh God.

He splashed water on his face, tore off his hair elastic, and ran his hands through his hair, leaning against the basin of the sink. Keith Alteara-Kogane did not cry. It just wasn’t how he processed pain, emotion. No, he didn’t cry. He pushed emotions away, letting them stir in his chest, head, until they became a torrent and he could release them privately or, otherwise, they manifested in a burst of rage or emotion, or a meltdown (sometimes, it was difficult to separate the two), or — rarely — a shutdown, even. But never crying. Not since that day. He only remembered crying once, and it was when he had first met his friends. But even still his eyes were glistening and a headache had clouded his head and stuffed his nose as tears ran down flustered cheeks. No, he didn’t cry. Not until now.

God. He had forgotten them. His closest friends, he had—

Nausea spiked in his stomach and he closed his eyes and breathed. He had forgotten them. But he had found them too. Or, really, they had found him. What did he do? I’m sorry sounded so hollow, and he hadn’t even uttered it. And bluntness sounded misplaced.

What did he do?

He wiped at his eyes, furiously, maybe hard enough to add to his red-rimmed eyes and the trails under them. He didn’t know. He didn’t care. What did he do? Recklessness was tempting, but perhaps way too risky at this point.

What did he do?

Basketball, back then, had been helpful; a crutch to work through the worse of everything. If he played now, without mentioning a single thing, would they notice a shift in him that he hadn’t even realized had occurred until it had crashed into him? Would they realize he had remembered? Maybe. And maybe he could use that. Maybe this would be the best way to go about it.

He sighed, pulling his hair back into his ponytail, and stared at himself. He was a mess. And they would notice. But he could deflect if necessary. At the very least, it was all he could do. Keith walked away, and pushed open the bathroom door.

　

\---

　

Lance stopped mid conversation with Hunk and Shay when he saw Keith finally come back to the court. Lance watched him for a moment, glancing at Hunk, wondering if he noticed how Keith seemed to be upset but calm all at once. He wasn't sure how to bring that up so he decided to go about it the Lance way.

"Welcome back, seemed we all needed that break huh?" he said to vaguely reference Keith's tear reddened face, "You up to try--and fail I might add--at getting that third point from us? We're ready to give it out all to get this next point from you."

Keith didn't miss the reference to his crying--somehow, despite being friends, Lance still didn't seem to realize that he didn't want to talk about emotions with anyone really--but didn't comment. It would be better to ignore it, lest he snapped. And, in this case, snapping would definitely be bad, even if he was tempted. Snapping would mean something is up, or at the very least making one of them mad (or maybe more concerned than he would like). So ignoring it was, then. "I won't let you have it." He didn't know why, but this last point...it was more than the game to him. He had to win it, no matter what. He had to. Not winning it...it seemed as if it were an insult. To what? He couldn't really say. Maybe all the times they had played before.

"If you're sure. I mean, I really wouldn't mind extending the break further if you wanted or anything." When Keith looked over at him, Hunk shook his head, "N-Not that I'm not feeling better! I'm good now! Just, ah. Y'know."

"Really, I'm sure. You can't delay the inevitable. I'm going to be winning this last point, and I want to get to that as soon as possible, so let's just finish this." He forced some fire back into his voice, and it wouldn't be until later reflection that he would realize it was genuine.

Lance smirked, "Okay, that break brought out your competitive side again? Well it brought out ours also." He nodded, picking the ball up and tossing it to him. "If you really think you can beat us, then let’s do this!"

Keith caught it, and the game began once more.

Somehow this turned out harder than expected. The longer he played, the harder it was to concentrate, and the more he lost the ball. They went back and forth, back and forth; like that last game. Like countless other games.

Keith grabbed the ball and spun, preparing to pass it too-- Too whom? _Crap._ There was no one there. Why did he think someone was there? The memories were getting hard to ignore or hold back. Fuck. It was going to cost him this game. What did he do? He couldn't dribble now. At least, they hadn't set up rules for it, but he was certain double dribbling wasn't allowed. All he could do was shoot, but Hunk would intercept it. What did he do? What did he--

The ball was yanked out of his hand, no, knocked out. It stung a bit, he hadn't noticed how hard he had been holding onto it, but there was no time now. "Fuck," he turned and saw Lance poised to pass. He had to intercept it. Intercept and then make his shot. It was the only chance he had.

He rushed over, last minute catching the ball and turning to quickly shoot. This would either barely make it, or not go in at all. But he needed it to. He needed to win.

**Winning...**

The ball hit the backboard, and landed on the rim. It bounced back up.

**Winning... meant....**

A swish and Keith could barely recognize what was happening anymore. The sounds echoed, and though he was standing, it felt as if he were falling. Down, down deeper into the water he had tried to avoid earlier and failed. And yet he wasn't...drowning?

**Winning meant....**

Pulled into a bone-crushing hug, Keith tried to shake it off. But he couldn't. Hunk was hugging him now, he had to be. He recognized this hug; remembered it from all those memories that were overflowing in him. "You're really them..." He murmured into stunned silence, Hunk loosening his hold on him now to let him _breathe._

**Winning meant getting back his friends.**

"Ah man!" Lance whined as he walked over to them, but was smiling; how could he be mad that Keith won in such a cool way like that? Plus Keith looked so happy that he was brought to tears at the fact that he had won. "You kicked our asses Keith," he laughed as he pat him on the back, moving to join in the little group hug.

"Yeah! I didn't think you'd make it for a minute there!" Hunk is smiling too now, though his eyebrow quirked at his friend's reaction. "Is there any reason you're crying though? I mean I was really into the game too but--"

"Shit," Keith pushed himself out of the hug and wiped at his eyes, finally fully attentive again. This, the crying, needed to be saved for later if at all. "You-- Didn't you hear me? Y-You're...You're _them._ You're really them." His breath hitches but he's smiling now as well, and probably looking a bit like an idiot with tears still streaming down his face that he couldn't just seem to stop. "My friends-- You're really--"

Lance froze, he stared at him, and okay maybe it was Keith's expression, or just the many realizations of the day, including this one, but he felt himself tearing up a little, "You... wait? You _remember!?_ You actually remember us?" He was smiling and in shock all at once, unsure what to do now.

"Y-Yeah I--" His breath hitches again, and he forces himself to take a few breaths. "I do. I--" He's suddenly pulled into a hug again but, despite normally hating hugs, despite now feeling a little claustrophobic, he still... God he had _missed_ this. Hunk's hugs, Lance's hugs... Even if they were too much sometimes, he still...

"Welcome back, bud."

Keith jolted up, staring at Hunk and his sun-like smile. Somehow, even if it sounded a little strange, it...fit.

"I knew my awesome skills would wake you up," Lance teased, nudging his shoulder, "Yeah sure we lost, but that's beside the point!" He paused then grinned, "So is this where we can now tease you about how good you drew us?"

Keith narrows his eyes and stars at him before shrugging and looking away, "Well, you could. But I'll never draw you again if you do," he teased.

Lance frowned, looking at Hunk, "Did you hear that? It's been like five minutes and he's already threatening us!" He turned back to Keith, "So-- does this mean we can hang out now without you getting annoyed with us now?" he joked.

"I know! I already feel so loved," Hunk joked.

"Ah," he frowned. "I wasn't really annoyed at you two per say..." How did he explain it? Was it even a good idea to explain it now? "We...might have a few things to talk about before we can."

Lance shrugged, "Well whatever it was, we can work on it now right? Like you said, we can all talk it out; we have a couple days before having to head home for winter break. Though _of course_ you have to give us your cell number now."

"Now, now?" He echoed, "Because I'd rather _that_ be a conversation we have up in my room-- your room?" He frowns and crosses his arms, rubbing a thumb against his bear skin. "Your room might be better actually. I’ll give you my number then too."

"Yeah that's a good idea, don't worry it's not messy we've cleaned it. You can go back to your room to shower from this, and then come to our room. We'll see Shay off and then go get our own showers and be waiting." Lance suggested. "Normally we'd all be going to study this time of day, but exams are over, I'm not studying until after New Years and no one can make me."

"Alright, sounds like a plan then." Keith goes over and grabs his jersey, folding it up over his arm. "See you two in a half hour?"

Lance nodded, grabbing a piece of paper out of the bottom of his bag, bless college for making me have that stuff around, and scribbled on it, "See you there, here’s our building and room number."

Keith took the paper and opened it, only blinking once he read the address.

"What is it?" Hunk peaked over Keith's shoulder, trying to get a good look at him. The only thing he got in response was Keith slowly...smiling? "Keith?"

"I can't believe--" His shoulders shook and he had to pull away from Hunk, a hand covering his mouth as-- wait was he _giggling_? "I can't fucking believe this."

Hunk shot a glance at Lance, more than a little confused.

Lance was just staring at Keith, because when did he smiled and laugh all adorable and cool like that? _That's not fair--_ He shook his head and looked at Hunk, shrugging, then turned to Keith. "Uhm? What can't you believe...?"

He was still laughing -- at this point he was wondering if maybe it was slightly hysterical because at this point he still hadn't reigned in his emotions -- as he took out his keychain from his jersey and tossed it over to Lance. "Read-- Read the tag." Stumbling back, Keith sunk onto the bleacher and tried to regain some semblance of composure.

Again, Hunk leaned over Lance's shoulder (this time), reading the tag along with him. "Y-You've...you gotta be joking. Really?"

Lance looked at the number, " _Are you serious?!_ You're on the same floor as us! How did we not bump into you there?" He asked now feeling himself start to laugh also. "Oh man, the three of us are so messed up."

"I don't know. I can't believe-- And we're practically neighbors." Finally he calmed down, "Anyways, I'm heading up now. I'll see you two soon." Maybe he could ask his roommate if they've seen them?

"Alright see you then!" Lance nodded, tossing back Keith’s keychain and waving after him, before turning to do a quick fair well exchange to Shay and thank her for coming before he and Hunk headed out as well.

Keith caught the chain and waved back as he left. He didn’t look back at them, nor did he talk, but just knowing that they wouldn’t be far behind, and that they were practically neighbors, was a thought that warmed his chest. He had his friends back. That had been all he had wanted.


End file.
